


The Shadows of Lake Placid

by InFamousHero



Series: The Woman Out of Time [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Body Horror, Gen, Horror, Lovecraftian, Monsters, The Enclave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InFamousHero/pseuds/InFamousHero
Summary: It's been two years since the Institute claimed victory over the Commonwealth and the future looks brighter than anyone expected it to. But even bright futures can be swallowed by a deep enough darkness. An ex-Enclave captain needs the Institute's help with a dire situation, one that could soon threaten the good people of the Commonwealth and the rest of the Wasteland itself if it isn't dealt with.As Director of the Institute, Karen has been through enough hardship to take on anything the world can throw at her. The danger, however, is far more insidious, and far more familiar than she ever wanted it to be...





	1. Beckoning

**Author's Note:**

> I've always found the supernatural elements of the Fallout setting interesting and really wish we could just have a spin-off where some of that Lovecraftian shit has engulfed a whole region and we the player have to deal with it. So enjoy o/

“What do you think it is?”

Karen took her time with her response, humming thoughtfully through the gentle motions of tucking her inquisitive son into bed. He had a deep curiosity for the sciences, but between experiments and schooling, he showed an interest in philosophy, which she encouraged as the subject had always interested her. Lately, Shaun had grown to ask her questions before bed and try to keep them going until the very last moment.

“I think Rousseau had the right idea, in some respects. We don’t know anything when we’re born,  we learn as we go, and it’s who teaches us and what happens to us that informs who we become,” she said, trying not to let her mind drift back to Kellogg and the events that made him the monster of _her_ story. Knowing his life went against everything was trained to think about 'the enemy.' She quickly shook the thought from her mind and smiled at Shaun.

He looked thoughtful, brow bunching up as he asked, “do you think it’s the same with Synths?”

She nodded slowly, adjusting the blanket.  “Possibly, we’ll have to find out some time later.”

It was obvious he wanted to ask something else, but a beep from her pip boy took her attention. A brief look at the device’s screen told her she was needed in the conference room. She sighed and straightened up, smiling at Shaun. “Alright, kiddo, get some rest, okay?”

Shaun nodded, snuggling into his pillow and closing his eyes. “Goodnight, mother, I love you.”

She almost reached to tuck a loose lock of hair behind his ear but refrained. “I love you too,” she murmured.

* * *

 

The conference room was empty save for a single black-clad figure standing at the windows, surveying the Institute with hands clasped behind their back in a strict but familiar stance.

“What is it, Mekhi?” Karen asked, stopping at the end of the table with her back to the door.

X6 turned to face her and offered a polite nod.

“Someone is attempting to make contact with us, ma’am. We believe we know the location of origin, but not who they are or their motivations.”

She frowned and leaned on the table. “How long?”

“Just the last couple of nights. We wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke before bringing it to your attention. Dr. Secord is waiting for you in the SRB.”

“Thank you; are you free to come with me?”

“Always, ma’am.”

Karen nodded and turned around, exiting at a brisk pace that X6 easily matched.

Life had been interesting these last couple of years, settling into her role as Director, fostering goodwill with the surface, slowly but surely convincing the rest of the board that cooperation and generosity were far better strategies to getting what they wanted. After all, stoking fear and resentment nearly brought them to ruin. Even with the destruction of the Brotherhood and the Railroad, pushing people to the brink of hopelessness would inevitably backfire.

The Institute had pure gold in its hands—it merely needed firm direction to put that gold to better use.

Their boots echoed off the empty halls and emptier core. Most were finishing up with dinner or recreation, and some retired to bed early, but someone was _always_ on duty at the bureau.

They arrived promptly, and after passing through security, Alana greeted them with familiar neutrality.

“Director, there you are,” she said, gesturing for them to follow. “This way.”

Karen didn’t miss a step, following Alana into the communications and observation hub. “What’s this about a signal, Alana?”

She led them to the map console in the centre of the room and brought it into focus over a hilly region to the west-south-west of Walden Pond. “We believe it’s coming from here,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s using the same frequency as our relay technology, but it isn’t moving, and no one has arrived unannounced, so they don’t _appear_ to be attempting a hijack.”

“This is why you think they’re trying to contact us.”

“Not just that. There’s no one _left_ in the Commonwealth who would try to speak to us like this. There are delegate units everywhere now. If there were a concern or something to be discussed, we would know it through them.”

Part of fostering a better relationship with the surface was opening channels of communication. The Institute had to remain secure, so Karen greenlit the creation of specialised G2 synths who would act as couriers between them and the surface. Delegate units visited settlements, collect queries and requests, and return to the Institute where the information would be disseminated, sorted, and planned around accordingly.

Whoever was doing this had to be a Commonwealth outsider, or they were truly desperate to be heard. But there was always another possibility, and Karen rubbed her chin in thought before she asked, “there’s been no Brotherhood or Railroad activity recently?”

Alana shook her head. “It’s a year and eight months since the last sighting of either. As far as we can tell, those remnants have given up or moved on. They know this territory is ours and soon enough the people will be our first line of defence against those sorts.”

Karen adjusted the angle of the map. “You can never be too careful,” she murmured. She could see the area in her head and shifted focus to a sub-region where two structures stood out from the landscape. “There’s a bunker and a radio tower here, which would explain how they’re doing this.”

“True, but not the why, this could still be a trap.”

“I’m aware. But someone with knowledge and interest wants our attention. I may as well give it to them and give it over with before they get antsy.”

Alana's eye’s bugged out at that. “You’re going out there?” she sputtered.

Karen smiled drily, and she could feel X6’s eyes on her. “I need the fresh air. Don’t worry; I’ll bring Mekhi with me.”

Alana shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat. “Well,” she said, smoothing down her coat. “We’ll continue monitoring the area.”

With a simple nod, Karen and X6 began to leave the SRB, and she could hear the hint of amusement in X6’s usually neutral voice once they were out of earshot. “You know it makes her uncomfortable when you do that.”

Karen gave a mock shrug. “No idea what you’re talking about, _Mekhi_.”

The slightest chuckle escape X6 and Karen grinned in turn. They split apart to prepare, X-6 to the Advanced Systems armoury and Karen to her quarters. She made a quick detour to check on Shaun, who was fast asleep, before she went through the motions of gearing up.

[The Strigidae Suit](https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/1151/images/28009-0-1511663048.png), or the Strig as Karen often shortened it, was a pet project of Rosalind’s based on a pre-war military effort to reverse-engineer China’s stealth capabilities. It was thought lost after the bombs dropped, but like so much pre-war tech it was unearthed eventually.

First came an interconnected suit of under armour that compressed and supported the body, providing multi-layered protection from the dangers of the Commonwealth. Next was the outer armour, a long overcoat that provided extra protection, utility, and a distinctive profile to the people above. She was easily recognisable to the Commonwealth, a familiar figure who provided reassuring words and an active presence in fixing problems they faced.

To others, however, she was a terror, and that’s where the helmet and its durable composite visor came into play. It was a marvel of modern engineering, enhancing her perception of her surroundings well beyond human levels. Even if the faceplate were scuffed to all hell, she would see just fine thanks to embedded cameras. Aside from that, she could display certain features on the visor that easily terrified a given raider once she let them see her.

They knew damn well to run when they saw a red skull. Raiding, slaving, or doing anything else that might bring harm to the people under Karen’s protection was grounds for harsh and immediate eradication. The gangs of Nuka World learned that the hard way when they began encroaching on the Commonwealth.

She closed the seals on her helmet, made some final adjustments, and slipped on her Pip-Boy. Another vast improvement thanks to Rosalind’s endless quest for efficiency. It was almost unrecognisable since she first put it on, heavily modified and streamlined with the help of a recent breakthrough that Rosalind was calling ‘micro-electronics’ with an _almost_ worrying gleam of excitement in her eyes. Karen made sure she was well fed and rested.

With all guns in place and everything secure, Karen nodded to herself and made for the relay room.

* * *

 

The stars were out in abundance where they landed, half a mile out from the signal, marred only by a bank of angry looking clouds to the far east over Boston.

Shaking off the bone-deep tingle of molecular teleportation, Karen led the way towards their target, carefully and quietly moving up the rugged slope of the area with her rifle out but held low. X6 crept along at her back, wearing his own Strig that Karen ordered made for him. Alana sputtered at that too, but Karen simply noted that X6 accompanied her on almost all her ventures to the surface and it was only right he be kitted out to the best possible standard to protect the Director of the Institute.

“All clear for now.” X6’s voice came through in her helmet, quiet and measured as usual.

“Nothing’s showing up for me either.”

They were almost there, and she slowed their pace when the top of the radio tower began to loom over the next ridge. It wasn’t a grand thing, just a couple of satellite dishes on a twenty-foot spire. The bunker wasn’t much either, it was practically a pillbox, but she knew there was a shelter underneath.

Karen thumbed a dial on her helmet as they drew closer, changing the basic night vision to thermal imaging. Any electrical defences would produce heat, and the cool concrete was an excellently dull backdrop for it. A shame then that there wasn’t anything to see.

They approached the bunker door and made one more visual sweep on the area. The door wasn’t locked, or trapped, so they made their way inside. It was a barren space with only the barest scraps of metal and disintegrating paper to fill it, so they went straight for the hatch.

X6 insisted on going first, and Karen didn’t feel like pressing the issue, so she let the man do his job and watched their surroundings through the bunker’s old loopholes. Whoever built it expected open warfare on American soil but the world had other ideas.

It didn’t take long for X6 to reach the bottom and give the all clear. Karen looked around one last time before descending the ladder, patting X6 on the shoulder once she was down in a silent command. They found themselves in a tube-like corridor, with barely enough space to let them stand up straight or side by side. There were three doors fitted to the curve of the corridor, two on the left, one on the right, and X6 wordlessly advanced on the nearest to the left.

The door was ajar and lead to a small living space with a pair of bunks embedded in the far wall, food storage, a small table and chairs, and a kitchenette. The overhead light was on, making it easy to spot an old revolver and combat knife on the table. By the looks of things, someone meticulous had been living here. The room was as clean and orderly as it could possibly be outside the Institute and it was stocked with at least a week’s worth of food both scavenged and foraged.

They moved on to the next room, the one on the right, but it was just a tiny washroom and waste disposal unit, as orderly as the first room and stocked with soap.

The last door on the left—they moved towards it and took positions either side of it. There was a light on inside and after a quick nod between them, Karen pushed it open and leaned into view.

It was the communication room, a cramped space taken up mostly by computer banks and two stools to begrudgingly accommodate human operators. One of which was occupied.

“That didn’t take too long.”

The mild southern drawl threw Karen for a moment. The speaker was a middle-aged looking woman, weathered by a life fraught with danger. She had an austere look about her, from her short and similarly half-shaved hair to the strong angle of her jaw and the military uniform she wore that Karen had trouble placing right then and there. The uniform itself had seen better days, it had been slashed and punctured numerous times, and it was obvious the women had bled on it at some point, but she’d taken the time to repair and clean it as best she could, she had pride in it.

The woman lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. There was no tension to her, there had been no traps, all her weapons _seemed_ to be in the other room, and something about how painstakingly neat it was down here told Karen she wasn’t someone out on a hit just waiting for her target.

Karen sent X6 a look, and they both lowered their weapons, though X6’s attention remained fixed to the woman. “Well, you wanted our attention, and you got it. Who are you and what do you want?”

The woman placed her hands on her knees, in plain sight, and smiled a thin, polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And I am grateful for it. I am Olivia Walker, former captain of the Enclave, and I have need of your considerable talents, ‘Mother of Boston.’”

It was a name that stuck as her reputation grew. People saw the surface synths call her ‘Mother’ in Shaun’s place, and she helped them build in safety, dealt with their problems, and protected them—like any good mother would. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it and simply resigned to accepting it as a moniker. Not one she went out of her way to encourage, but it had its uses.

The more pressing matter was that this woman just claimed to be from the Enclave, or what was left of it, a dangerous claim after their defeat in the West. But there were no Brotherhood here, and Karen wasn’t a paladin anymore. “That’s a bold admission to make,” she said. “I used to be Brotherhood.”

Olivia tilted her head. “Better to say it now and see how you respond. I do stress the _former_ part, of course. As I imagine you do after what happened here.”

Karen nodded and holstered her sidearm. “So I do.”

Olivia smiled grimly and gestured for Karen to sit in the other chair, which she obliged. She thumbed a toggle on her helmet, switching the visor to transparency mode and allowing Olivia to see her face. The act wasn’t lost on her, and she nodded in gratitude. “I appreciate the openness. I don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll get right to it. I need your help with a matter most dire, something I cannot trust with mercenaries. Your reputation precedes you, you’re tough, iron-willed, and you have a strong sense of compassion tempered by pragmatism. There are a lot of innocent people in danger, and I can’t save them by myself.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a town up in the Adirondack’s called Lake Placid, named after the lake it’s built on. Me and mine settled there after we fled our destruction a decade ago, tried to reorient ourselves into something new now that we were scattered to the wind. There were people at Lake Placid already but they let us settle in, and we decided to take a diplomatic route, worked our way into their favour until we were running the show. The people were slow to trust but grateful in the end, we had the knowledge to improve their lives.  We fortified the place, improved their agriculture, their production capabilities, and gave them as best a practical education as we could.”

Olivia paused a moment, and the hint of a real but wistful smile crossed her face. “That was… one of my jobs actually, teaching the kids. I had a thing for math and computing, so I imparted what I thought would be the most useful for them in such a rural setting. But they were bright little things and convinced me to teach them some programming. They quite liked that.”

A coil of unease snaked its way into her guts, and Karen frowned deeply. “What happened?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Olivia cleared her throat, taking a few seconds to pull herself back to the present. “Couple of fishermen dredged a pre-war container out of the lake bed.” Her voice became strained as she spoke, her shoulders squaring and eyes growing flinty. “Now I don’t rightly know where it came from; my best guess is that it came off an aircraft when the bombs hit. Plenty of those suckers fell right out of the sky when it happened, so there’s no telling how much precious or clandestine cargo was lost.” A hard, dark undercurrent entered her tone, and it raised the hair of Karen’s neck. “What _we_ found was of the latter variety, and I’ve no idea who exactly was behind its containment or transportation but they sure as hell picked a shit day to move it.”

Karen leaned on her knees, hands linked and wore her sympathy on her face. Something horrible had to have happened to stir this much hatred in someone over some cargo. “What did you find?” she asked carefully.

Olivia took a deep breath and slowly shook her head. “It was a crown,” she said simply.  She slipped her hand into a flat pants pocket and produced a few photographs, passing them to Karen. They showed the box and how much bigger it was than the item it carried. The interior was lined with all different layers of containment, each coming with a different locking mechanism, and at the centre sat a crown, just as Olivia said. It was a thick circlet with many skyward spires, nautical embellishments and strange etchings that wouldn’t have been out of place had she seen them among the Children of Atom. The longer she stared at the embellishments, the more they seemed to resemble mirelurk kings and the more that coil of unease in her belly grew into a cloying sense of dread. Her eyes throbbed and she blinked, looking away. “Is it all one piece?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes, we found that strange too, for something so intricate and finely detailed. It’s like it came straight from a mould, but it’s far too precise, and there was no discernible evidence of machining or handcrafting. Our science types got real confused about its structure too, but I never got to hear about it.”

The throbbing subsided, and Karen handed the pictures back. Olivia smiled grimly at her. “Feeling uncomfortable?”

Karen frowned. “What was wrong with it?”

A bitter scoff escaped Olivia. She put the pictures away and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t be here if I understood that. All I do know is that as soon as we found that fucking thing, everything changed. My superior, Arthur Gladstone, took a lot of personal interest in it. Things started to go wrong around town. People went missing; they had night terrors and hallucinations, thought they could _see_ things skulking on the shoreline.” She slowly shook her head, mouth curling in a cold, resentful twist. “God isn’t my thing, far as I’m concerned he turned his back on his little project here a long time ago, but we sure as shit got _something’s_ attention when we opened that box.”

“It got worse?”

“It did. People started acting strange, walking into the lake and standing there for hours, or talking in this strange, vile language that hurts the ears just to hear it. My fellows changed too, seemed I was the only one with my senses intact, but every time I tried to bring up my concerns, Arthur reassured me it was being dealt with, that everything would be ‘fine.’”

Karen straightened in her seat. “But it wasn’t.”

Olivia shook her head again. “I finally lost my patience and confronted him, but I found him wearing the crown. Needless to say that little moment of defiance did not go in my favour. He had me tossed in a cell and tortured for three days, trying to beat me into submission. I think he realised I wasn’t going to fall under the same spell as everyone else so easily. I pretended to break and escaped when my captors let their guard down. I stole some supplies, my gun, and ran until I hit the Commonwealth.”

It was a lot to take in at once. On the surface, it sounded ludicrous, borderline supernatural, but those pictures nagged at a memory Karen wouldn’t soon forget.

She glanced at X6, who had nothing to say even on their private channel, and returned her stare to Olivia. “How long have you been here?”

Olivia seemed to count in her mind, eyes briefly rolling to the ceiling. “Two months I believe. I don’t know what’s happened up there in my absence but…” she paused, sighing, and closed her eyes. “I _liked_ what we were building, you know?” She frowned, opening her eyes again to stare at Karen. “It wasn’t what any of us were raised to fight for, but I don’t think we’ll ever get that old America back. Perhaps we shouldn’t. But there are a lot of innocent people up there who are suffering right now, and I can’t change that fact alone. I need help, and you are the single most capable person in the Commonwealth as far as I’m concerned.”

* * *

 

“I strongly advise against this, ma’am, the region she’s talking about is well out of the Institute’s range. You wouldn’t be able  to talk to us or get an emergency evacuation out of danger.”

“And when have I needed one of those?”

X6’s silent stare, broken only by the occasional owl, forced Karen to sigh and lift her hands. “I know what you’re getting at, believe me. I don’t want to risk anything without a good reason, and I wouldn’t be considering this otherwise.”

The tone of his voice already held an edge of defeat to it; he knew her too well at this point.  “But?”

Karen pursed her lips, trying to sift through the jumble of jittering words that always came to mind the moment she tried to articulate what happened in that horrible pit. She took a deep breath and looked away, focusing on the distant Boston skyline. “Something about those pictures felt familiar. Did I ever tell you about the Dunwich Borers incident?”

“No.”

“Right. Well. The long and short of it is that some seriously fucked up shit was going on down there, and I’m still not entirely sure if it was just my mind playing tricks on me in the dark or it something else was going on. But seeing that crown stirred the same feelings in me, that same feeling of something inescapably wrong and oppressive.”

“Ma’am, if you were trying to reassure me, you’re failing, spectacularly.”

Karen laughed coolly at that.   “Good, because nothing about this is putting me at ease.”

“And yet you still want to go out there for strangers and subject yourself to it.”

“If the same kind of shit that went down in that godforsaken hole is happening to a whole town of people? I have to try. No one deserves that, not even the fucking raiders deserved it.  If you’re going to kill someone just do it.”

“I don’t like this, Karen.”

She looked at him then. His visor was set to transparency, and his concern was crystal clear by the hardness of his eyes and the furrow of his brow. The fact that he used her name, something he only did on rare occasions when he was legitimately worried about her, also helped.

Karen sighed and turned to face him. “Probably because you know what I’m going to do,” she said, smiling stiffly.

X6 did not smile. “I do. I strongly disagree, but I’m at your disposal nonetheless. So what are your orders?”

Karen put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard. “Thank you, Mekhi. I promise I’ll do my best to stay in one piece.”

He raised his arm under hers and clasped her shoulder in turn. “I’ll hope you to that, ma’am.”

They let go of each other, and she smiled, honestly this time. “I’ll just confirm things with our new friend; then we can get back and prepare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing and want to see original work from me, please consider looking me up on Amazon under "Sophie Lack," I write science fiction and fantasy :)


	2. Welcome Party

Preparing for her absence was a mercifully straightforward affair, most were used to Karen coming and going so the only substantive difference this time would be the lack of communication while she was busy.

Preston would continue leading the Minutemen in collaboration with trusted Institute personnel, and Allie would fill in as Director until she returned. Despite his desire to accompany her, X6 would remain to keep a close watch on the Institute to ensure no one did anything untoward in Karen’s absence. It wasn’t a _huge_ concern, most had fallen in line and accepted her leadership, but she’d always made certain individuals uncomfortable with her philosophical leanings about synths and their place in the world. It was a long road to walk.

Everything was in order by the following morning. Karen said her goodbyes, took her gear to the Relay room and rendezvoused with Olivia on the old Blue Star Memorial Highway out of the Commonwealth. She arrived before her equipment to confirm Olivia was there and it wasn’t a trap, before calling in a personal project of hers.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at the refurbished fusion bike but didn’t ask questions. It was military issue, made for a maximum of two passengers with space for supplies to be latched on, and it would cut travel time to Lake Placid down to five hours provided they could avoid detours. Of course, that turned out to be wishful thinking, as Karen knew it would be. The state of the roads required _several_ detours, but Olivia was surprisingly amiable company despite her grim manner.

Their chatter never got too in-depth as Karen had to focus on the road and stay aware of danger, and Olivia was as dutiful a watchwoman, so Karen took the opportunity for a proper conversation when they took a break in the shade of decaying coolant station. It was slowly collapsing under the weight of climbing vines and other plants growing into its increasingly rotted structure. Things were starting to grow back at a considerable rate, and it wouldn’t be long before buildings like these were a distant memory. Nature inevitably had its way.

“So,” Karen said, securing the cap of her canteen. “When you told me about confronting Arthur I got the impression there was more going on there.”

“And you’d be right,” Olivia nodded without looking up from her water. “His reassurances were beginning to wear thin. It was my idea to be diplomatic; I’m sure you’re aware our organisation promoted an exclusive point of view. Everyone who wasn’t us was sub-human, affected by the radiation, mutagenic compounds, poor breeding and primitive socialisation.” She paused and lifted her eyes to the road where they stared into something much farther away. A scowl overtook her brow, and she shook her head. “It made wiping people out or experimenting on them easier to justify. They weren’t really ‘human’, so it didn’t count.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Oh, I imagine so. I heard a great deal about your Institute and its not-too-long-ago infamy.”

Olivia closed her canteen and was quiet for a moment, still staring into the middle distance. Karen waited for her to continue, all too familiar with getting lost in old memories and regrets.

Sighing, Olivia blinked and came back to the present. “I moved on. I accepted that we weren’t the Enclave anymore, that we were _done_. We were nowhere near a minimum viable population, we were scattered, and the world had moved on around us. We were relics of a world that long since died.”

Karen eyed her uniform. “I get the senses you haven’t totally let it go.”

A short bark of laughter escaped Olivia, and she sent Karen a dry smile. “You never really let go of the military life, you know that.”

Karen nodded. “True enough.”

They sat quietly for a moment, letting a cool breeze pass them by with little more than the rustling of grass and the cry of an eagle to keep them company otherwise.

Olivia’s smile faded. “I need your help, so I want to be clear with you. I recognise the way my people have acted was cruel and tyrannical. I came to hope that maybe Lake Placid could be a place of atonement for those of us who were left. We really were building something _good_ up there before we opened that damned box.”

“What else was going on?”

“I kept hearing things from the civilians, rumours that something was happening to their missing. I got the impression I was being left out of the loop by my fellows and Arthur. I saw a lot of terrible shit when I went to confront him that I’d rather not describe.”

Karen frowned deeply at that. “So what’s the plan when we get there?”

“Find whoever still has their head on straight, figure out what’s going on, and kill Arthur.”

“This all started with that crown, right?”

“Yes… that’s part of figuring what’s going on. I’ve got a friend who lives on the edge of town, Lawrence. He prefers keeping to himself, so I’d put good money on him still being alive. Maybe we can get more information from him.”

Karen nodded and got to her feet, stretching out her legs and back as she reached her full height. “Sounds as good a place as any to start,” she said, turning around to offer Olivia her hand. “Let’s move while we still have daylight.”

Olivia gave her a dry look but took her hand nonetheless, letting Karen help her up.

* * *

It was early evening by the time they made it to Lake Placid. Various white-capped peaks broke up the horizon, and a thick living forest blanketed everything they could see. The trees closest to the road were cut down at some point, and Karen noticed several old dirt paths leading off to logging areas.

Like the coolant station, much of the town outskirts were entirely overtaken by the surrounding forest. Only small remnants remained like a pillar or an especially stubborn wall depending on how big the building was.

It wasn’t until they rounded a curve in the road that the trees fell away to reveal the inhabited section of Lake Placid. Where the Chubb River cut through the town, the far side of it had been reinforced with log palisades and stakes driven into the ground where it was shallow enough to chance an unwelcome crossing. A small pre-war bridge was the only safe route across, and it was flanked by a pair of watchtowers, also made from local lumber by the looks of it. But there was no one in sight, the towers were dark, and there was no sound.

Darkness hadn’t fully set in yet, so Karen kept her night vision on low power. It was enough to see what was on the other end of the bridge—a broken body lay in the middle of the road, arm outstretched.

“This isn’t right,” Olivia muttered in her ear. Karen simply grunted in affirmation and pressed forward across the bridge.

A thin band shot up from the road, spanning her vision left to right. It caught her by the throat. She gagged, slammed into Olivia, and lost her grip on the handlebars. The bike flew out from under them, abandoning them to the hard meeting of asphalt and flesh. They hit the road and tumbled with a force that threatened to break them.

Karen tucked her arms in as she flipped over and rolled to a halt, her vision swimming. She came to a stop on her back and forced herself to get moving and get moving _quickly_ because she could hear voices approaching from all sides. She hastily thumbed her vision to thermal, and the immediate area lit up with at least eight humanoid figures.

She pulled her revolver and fired at the nearest assailant, blowing out their ankle in a spray of bright white against the asphalt. They fell back screaming, clutching at their stump—this seemed to make the rest pause in their approach. Maybe they weren’t expecting armed victims.

Rolling onto her front, Karen pushed herself into a kneeling position and ignored the plaintive throbbing from her throat. The suit was reinforced there for a reason, and it wasn’t bad enough to let it distract her.

Olivia groaned and hurriedly rolled onto her knees with a cough. “Fuck,” she muttered. She pulled her weapon, and Karen shuffled closer.

The other side of the bridge was a no-go thanks to five extra assailants blocking it off, holding fire axes and sledgehammers.

Karen swore to herself and rose to her feet. Olivia rose with her, gun at the ready and sticking to Karen’s back.

 ** _“_** ** _͡_** ** _I_** ** _̕_** ** _t_** ** _̷_** **_̢_** ** _w_** ** _͠_** ** _il_** ** _̸_** ** _l_** ** _̡_** ** _b_** ** _̴_** ** _e_** ** _͟_** ** _h_** ** _̷_** ** _ea_** ** _͜_** ** _l_** ** _͘_** ** _e_** ** _҉_** ** _d_** ** _̧_** ** _!_** ** _̨_** ** _”_** One of their attackers cried in a voice distorted beyond human capability as if three spoke as one,  flanged, their pitches warped into something wholly unpleasant and unnatural.

 ** _“_** ** _̕_** ** _Yo_** ** _̡_** ** _u mus_** ** _̶_** ** _t_** ** _͝_** ** _b_** ** _̶_** ** _e_** ** _̶_** **_͞_** ** _m_** ** _̸_** ** _ad_** ** _͏_** ** _e w_** ** _h_** ** _ole!”_** screamed another.

 ** _“Ta_** ** _̨_** ** _k_** ** _͘_** ** _e_** ** _̨_** ** _t_** ** _̛_** ** _h_** ** _em_** ** _for_** ** _͟_** ** _the_** ** _̡_** **_̸_** ** _He_** ** _r_** ** _͟_** ** _a_** ** _͏_** ** _l_** ** _̡_** ** _d_** ** _̸_** ** _!_** ** _̨_** ** _”_**

Karen’s ears throbbed with an ache bordering on pain the more they spoke. She ground her teeth, trying to look for a way out between them. They were regaining their confidence and started to approach again slowly.

“Get back, or we’ll open fire again!” she yelled in a firm, authoritative voice amplified by her helmet.

The injured one had grown quiet until now when he laughed a wheezing, halted kind of laughter. He looked up at Karen and grinned.

 **"Yo** **̧** **u** **̵** **w** **̕** **i** **ll** **͟** **k** **̕** **n** **̴** **ee** **l** **͠** **̧** **f** **͞** **o** **̷** **r** **the splen** **d** **̡** **id** **͝** **s** **̕** **t** **̢** **a** **͢** **rs!** **̸** **"** **͏**

Olivia’s back pressed against Karen’s. “We need to make a break for it!” she growled.

Ragged howling cut the air and Karen spotted wild figures sprinting towards the Y-junction they were being corralled on. They looked too reminiscent of feral ghouls for comfort, but no one seemed alarmed to hear them.

One of their assailants lunged with a snarl, swinging his bat. Karen shot him before it connected, leaving him to fall to the ground with his neck blown open. She fired again, injuring a couple of their assailants. Olivia’s revolver went off beside her, taking down the two nearest to Karen’s targets and opening just enough of a gap. “Follow me!” she barked. Karen wasted no time and stuck to Olivia’s back. They darted over the injured attackers and ran across a car park for the left split in the junction.

A furious chorus exploded behind them.

 **"D** **̷** **o n** **͘** **ot fl** **̶** **ee** **̢** **fro** **̧** **m** **̷** **th** **҉** **e** **͞** **͠** **deep mist** **̸** **s!"**

 **"** **͘** **It** **̶** **w** **͘** **ill** **̕** **̡** **c** **͡** **lea** **̡** **nse** **͞** **͢** **yo** **͡** **u** **̵** **̧** **of** **̴** **th** **͠** **e** **҉** **f** **̢** **ilt** **̷** **h** **͝** **!"**

 **"Br** **͘** **ing** **̡** **them** **͠** **to** **͘** **̷** **th** **̵** **e** **͏** **H** **̢** **er** **͠** **a** **̴** **ld!"** **͡**

 **"Bring** **͝** **t** **҉** **he** **͟** **m** **͜** **b** **͘** **efor** **̴** **e** **͏** **̶** **th** **͝** **e** **̨** **sp** **̢** **le** **͟** **nd** **҉** **id stars** **͡** **!"** **̧**

Olivia led them partway down the street passed a scrapyard. There was another split, and one road was blocked by a ramshackle wall, leaving them one immediate choice. They headed right into a residential area, flanked by houses and cloistering trees, yards repurposed for food production. Almost none of the lights were on, and Karen kept the implications from rising to the forefront. Running was too important right now.

They reached a crossroads and Olivia turned left. Passage to the north and east was blocked off.

The shouting wasn’t far enough for comfort. Karen holstered her gun and pulled a flashbang off her belt, one of three she carried. She risked a glance behind her, pulled the pin and flung it over her shoulder. It went off at the front of the pack, sending them into disarray. “Broke LOS!” she called.

Olivia immediately dove into the nearest line of trees. They cut across gardens and between the houses, breaking up their figures in the growing darkness. More walls blocked the way forward soon enough, but Olivia kept running and vaulted over them instead of running around. Karen followed suit, and they ended up on another street, still surrounded by houses. The screaming was further away, but they needed a place to hide, and soon.

Failing to slow down, Olivia took them through another series of gardens, putting more trees between them and the enemy.

Olivia pointed at a house just thirty feet ahead of them. The back door was hanging open, it looked deserted—but so had the town. Karen pulled her revolver and mentally counted her shots, she had two left.

They hurried into the house and rushed upstairs in a frantic thumping of boots on wood. When they reached the landing, Olivia paused just long enough to spot the string for the attic trapdoor and pulled it down.

Karen watched the stairs as she went up, straining to listen and tell if their attackers were drawing close. Once Olivia was up she quickly followed, and they pulled up the ladder. They both noticed there was a latch, but Olivia’s hands were quicker to snap it shut.

Silence.

They were motionless, arms wrapped tight around the folded ladder for extra security, straining to hear what direction their pursuers were going.

Karen didn’t dare move and ignored the growing ache of bruises across her body. She had a compact medical kit on her person, but she would much rather save what was in there for more severe injuries.

The shouting seemed to grow quieter the longer they listened—until the front door banged into the wall like someone kicked it open. They froze. Olivia seemed to stop breathing altogether. It sounded like a lone hunter, stalking the house for signs of them and singing slowly to himself in the same distorted voice as the rest.

 **"O** **̴** **s** **̷** **a** **̷** **y c** **͠** **an** **͜** **͜** **y** **͟** **ou** **͝** **see** **̧** **..."** His voice scratched at her hearing even through the floor.  ͡ **"** **҉** **By** **th** **e da** **̢** **wn** **͠** **s** **͢** **e** **̨** **ar** **͢** **l** **̵** **y** **͢** **l** **͏** **i** **͟** **gh** **̷** **t** **..** **̷** **."** The sound of boots slowly moved through the living room and towards the stairs, where a rattle-tap-tap followed him like he was dragging a bat along the bannister. He passed under the attic and seemed to search the three bedrooms instead, continuing his warped melody. **"W** **҉** **ha** **̷** **t** **͝** **so p** **̛** **r** **҉** **oudly** **̶** **̷** **we ha** **̧** **i** **̶** **l** **e** **d..."** his voice lowered to a rasp at the end. He was quiet for a second, two, four, six—he roared and smashed something ceramic. **"** **͟** **G** **͏** **l** **̶** **e** **̕** **a** **҉** **m** **̸** **!** **̢** **̸** **T** **͘** **hey m** **̶** **u** **̛** **s** **̸** **t _g_** ** _̨_** ** _leam_** **!** **̢** **"**

He breathed heavily for a long moment, small pockets of laughter and strained whining escaping him one after the other. **"Spl** **͘** **e** **̢** **ndi** **̴** **d** **̡** **st** **a** **̢** **r** **҉** **s..** **̸** **.** **̕** **͘** **br** **̶** **i** **̡** **n** **͠** **g** **̨** **u** **͝** **s** **̡** **̛** **t** **̸** **o** **͠** **g** **͟** **e** **͟** **t** **̴** **he** **҉** **r** **̴** **agai** **͟** **n. Ma** **͡** **k** **̸** **e u** **͞** **s wh** **͞** **o** **͘** **le** **̴** **,”** he pleaded and slowly made his way downstairs and out of the house.

When they didn’t hear another sound after five minutes of agonising silence, Karen sagged and slumped off the folded stairs to breathe deeply. “I’m surprised you didn’t just torch the place on your way out,” she muttered.

Olivia sent her a grim look. “Believe me, I thought about it.”

Karen sat up and looked directly at her. “Were they like that when you left?”

With a low grunt, Olivia sat up and slipped off her NVGs to rub her eyes. “Not at all, everyone was too spooked to step outside their houses at that point. It was just the town militia still watching the place, and they didn’t spot me—none of those people were militia. I recognised them.”

From what Karen could make out in the white-thermal, their attackers were wearing regular clothes, anything they could have scavenged or pieced together. “What do the militia wear?”

“A little bit of scrap metal for the vitals but leathers and fur mostly, hunters provided it along with our supply of game. The trees here let us experiment with bows, real old-school but silent and easy to replace in comparison. Bullets and energy cells are for raiders and mutants who can’t be talked to.”

“I imagine even raiders might think twice if there’s an arrow sticking out of them.”

Olivia laughed coolly. “And you’d be right. Sometimes bullets just don’t fuckin’ work, they don’t hit the right place, and the worst of the lot can just shrug that shit off with enough psycho. But a flying knife that slashes up your insides and cuts your bones, and was dipped in who-knows-what to guarantee an infection? Good fuckin’ luck. We haven’t had raider problems in quite a while, and then this shit happens.”

Getting to her feet caused a momentary wobble, but Karen shook it off and crept to the attic window. Pockets of artificial light were everywhere, but the town still seemed inescapably dark, as if the light was being bullied to take up less space than it should have. Small movements now and then, and sweeping lights, had to be patrols—most likely still looking for them.

Karen frowned and turned away, looking at Olivia. “Are you alright?”

Olivia nodded and slowly stood up. She rubbed her neck, sighing. “I should be asking you that. Felt like that damn thing hit you right in the throat the way you slammed into me.”

“It did, but my suit took the worst of it.”

“Fair enough.”

She joined Karen at the window, eyes narrowed. “Those walls weren’t here before.”

“I got that impression.”

“We helped build the outermost walls, but the rest of this shit is new. Probably to make escape harder.”

Another look at the town showed hints of fog creeping in from the lake. The lights further away were hazier than they should have been, slowly smothered under a blanket of cold damp.

Karen gestured loosely at the window. “So, where do we go from here to find Lawrence?”

Olivia pointed off to the left. “That way,” she said, digging into the bag on her hip and producing an old map of the town. She crouched, and Karen knelt with her, illuminating the map with her pip-boy. “Up Wesvalley Road here passed the old Plaza Hotel.” She drew her finger along the road in question. “Then we head east over the brook to the Algonquin houses. Lawrence is at the far end of them. Terrain’ll make it about a half-hour from here to there.”

She moved her finger back along the route and into the cross-hatch of roads surrounding houses and yards. “My best guess,” she murmured, tapping her finger on a particular house, “is that we’re about here, on Mc Kinley Street. If we follow it west, it’ll take us onto Wesvalley.”

Karen input a few commands into her pip-boy. “Can you move your hand away for a sec?”

Olivia complied with a raised eyebrow, and Karen took a scan of the map. “Thank you. If you lead the way I can keep a look out, I’m more likely to detect hostiles before you do anyway.”

A grim smile crossed Olivia’s face. “Ready to move out?” she asked, putting the map away and securing her NVGs.

Karen simply gave her a curt thumbs-up, and they carefully exited the attic, keeping as low a profile as they could while maintaining a steady pace on their way out of the house.

An old road sign noted they were on Mc Kinley as Olivia expected. The street was mercifully light on roadblocks and allowed them to reach the long, lone curve of Wesvalley undetected. Trees pressed in along the road like rows of bristling teeth, tall and suffocating. Karen kept her attention on the spaces beyond the treeline, a wash of grey pillars and the pitch darkness the threatened to bleed between them, but no bright spots.

They turned off the road and into the trees, skulking through the spider web of branches, shrubs and dangling climbers.

The bulk of their supplies were on the bike so Karen made note of what was actually _on_ her. She always carried her rifle and a pair of side arms whenever she went above ground. Her Colt Anaconda, her suppressed Walther, and her much-beloved weapon of choice, a meticulously maintained sniper rifle she affectionately dubbed Cu-Sith after a Scottish death hound. She had extra ammunition for all of them on her person, most of all for the rifle, along with a combat knife as a weapon of last resort, and she wanted to conserve as much of it as she could for when they needed it.

The revolver Olivia carried seemed to be her only weapon other than a knife, but she looked like she had plenty of extra ammo for it.

Finally, they reached the brook and walked across a shallow spot where larger rocks gathered, trekking up the other side through increasingly sloped terrain. It levelled out eventually, and they paused at the top, catching their breath and listening to their surroundings.

A strange, gnawing sensation wormed at the back of Karen’s skull where it connected to her spine, and she tried to brush it off. It was like something jagged slowly wriggled against the bone, trying to shave off a layer with each scrape, scrape, scrape…

She shook her head, and Olivia took notice. “I can feel it too.”

A ball of ice formed in Karen’s stomach and she clenched her jaw. She gestured to keep moving. Olivia just nodded and pressed on through the trees, bringing them to a small tangle of coiling roads with large cabins built around them. There didn’t seem to be any signs of life and they passed by undisturbed to the far end of the tangle. The cabin at the end was a little smaller than the rest, but it was in better condition than most, as if someone had put a lot of effort into refurbishment.

Olivia hurried onto the porch and knocked on the window by the door. “Lawrence, are you in there? Lawrence!” she kept her voice to a harsh whisper, quiet enough that it wouldn’t carry far but loud enough to be heard on the other side of the window hopefully.

It was quiet for a moment, straining to hear anything but the slight rustle of leaves. Soft footsteps followed and drew closer to the window, paused, and moved towards the door. It cracked open to reveal the worried face of an older, clean-shaven man wearing a flat-cap.

“Olivia, that really you?” he asked with the voice of a long-time smoker. His eyes fell on Karen warily. “Who’s this?”

“A friend, we can’t be seen—can we come in?”

“O-of course, of course.”

He pulled the door open, ushering them inside and giving the woods one last wary look before he closed it. A simple bolt lock held it in place, and a small lamp barely illuminated his living room.

Turning around, Lawrence embraced Olivia in a hard hug. “My god, I thought they killed you.”

Olivia gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Not a chance.” She pulled away, lifting her goggles and smiling grimly. “Couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t come back with help.”

“Help? Fuck, Liv, it’s been all I could do just to keep my head down. Do you have any idea the shit that’s been happening?”

Karen interjected with a firm, “no, that’s why we came to you.”

He turned to her, frowning in worry. “I see. Liv said you were a friend?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m an ally at the very least. My name is Karen. We came here to stop Arthur, any ideas?”

A bleak little laugh escaped Lawrence and he slipped his cap off to scratch at his shaggy hair. “Ideas…no, not personally. But I know one of our hunting boys, Eddie Willock, was sneaking about, doing ‘reconnaissance’ on Arthur and his lot to see if he could gather enough information to figure shit out.”

 “It sounds like it hit the fan when Arthur started wearing the crown.”

“Cursed fucking thing—yeah, it did.”

Olivia put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s happened since I was gone?”

The old man sighed and passed them, sinking into a well-worn armchair. “Arthur’s started calling himself the ‘Herald of Aqualbhath,’ some kind of god creature that wants to bring back the glory days of old America before the bombs dropped.”

Karen frowned. “Strange motive for a god.”

Lawrence shrugged, spreading his hands in a wide, questioning gesture. “And a strange fuckin’ way of going about it!” he growled, looking at Liv. “Arthur… he’s making monsters out of good people. I saw the Franklins beat their boy to death, callin’ him ‘unclean,’ hollering about how they were going to ‘fix’ him. You know that boy never hurt a god damn fly, he was as gentle as they come!” He looked away, lower lip trembling, eyes wet, and shook his head. “But it’s not just the human monsters, it’s… there’s _worse_ things out there now.”

Olivia slowly settled on a worn couch, but Karen remained standing. “The ghouls?” she ventured, thinking back to those strange, feral-like figures.

Lawrence huffed and looked at her with a bitter smile. “Ghouls… fuck I wish they were ghouls. No. The people Arthur effects have been—look I don’t understand how or why he’s doing it, but people around here have started to change, the mind and then the body, it’s slow at first, but they reach a tipping point, and it’s like some floodgate opens.”

The wriggling sensation came back, and Karen resisted the urge to rub at her neck. Lawrence, however, stiffened in his chair. “Shit…” he muttered.

She opened her mouth to ask him what was from and a terrible screech cut the air outside, driving nails through her eardrums and forcing Karen to lose her balance from the pain.

Olivia’s hands were spotted with blood when she pulled them away from her ears. “Lawrence, what is that?”

He was already out of his chair and frantically pulling up a small carpet in the middle of the room, exposing a hatch for his cellar. “I stopped hearing from Eddie a couple of days ago. I don’t know if they got him, but I’ve been waiting for these fuckers to come to me. Get in, now!”

“Lawrence—!”

“Don’t fucking argue with me! Now!”

Olivia glared at him but complied, climbing into the cellar. Karen clenched her teeth and climbed down as well, taking out her revolver once her feet hit solid earth.

Lawrence looked down at them from the opening.  “You’ve got to find Eddie. He was holed up at the Old High School off Main Street. He might have figured something out!” With that, he closed the hatch and pulled the carpet back into place.

His footsteps move away for a moment and hurry back. The tension is vice-like and unpleasant, like nails slowly dragging across the scalp, curling thin coils of skin beneath the keratin, spots of blood welling in their wake, dripping, dripping…

Karen shook her head and lifted it. There were tiny cracks between the floorboards, just enough to see Lawrence standing at the door with a long gun at the ready—Karen guessed it was a hunting shotgun.

A metallic grinding sound came from the door, and Karen angled her head, watching in alarm as the metal bolt, hinges and handle rapidly began to rust and crack. Lawrence backed away and the centre panel in the door slowly blackened, crumbling apart in rotted chunks.

The tension in the air seemed to undulate, ebbing and flowing in waves that cracked the overhead planks and sent splinters of entropic wood fluttering to the packed earth of the cellar floor.

The _thing_ standing on the other side was—

 **“** **̕͟͟͟** **L** **҉͞͞** **a** **̡͏̢** **w** **̶͘͠** **r** **̵͠** **e** **̡͘** **n** **̵** **c** **̴̷͟͠͞** **e** **͏͘̕͞͡** **…** **̨̛** **̡̛͝** **w** **̵̸͠͞** **e** **҉̶҉** **̶̨̕̕͢** **c** **͡͏̸͡** **o** **̡͟͝͠** **m** **̵̡̕** **e** **҉̢̛** **̸̛͘** **t** **̷͠** **o** **͏͞** **̶̴͢** **c** **̡͡** **l** **̸** **e** **̢̛** **a** **͠҉** **n** **҉̵̵̨͢** **s** **̛̕̕͟͞** **e** **̴̵̴͝** **̶͢͝** **y** **̶҉̸̧** **o** **̷̷͢** **u** **̸͟͞** **҉̧͢͠͝** **o** **̵̛** **f** **̶̢̧** **̧** **y** **҉͜͞͞͝** **o** **̴͡͏̕** **u** **̶̛͠** **r** **̢͝** **̶͟͜** **f** **̢͠͝** **i** **͞** **l** **҉̷̷̧͠** **t** **̶͘** **h** **̸̧͟͢͝** **.** **̡̛** **”** **͢҉͝**

Screws drilled into their temples, flesh, vessels and bone all twisting, contorting under the pressure. Karen clutched her head, vision swirling like an acid trip, it burst into painful starlight at the deafening bark of Lawrence’s shotgun—he screamed like a boy, high and frantic and desperate for protection.

She fell against the wall and slid down, arms tight around her head, screwing her eyes shut to block it out, block it out, _out_ , get it out!

Lawrence fell, his legs kicked against the floor and his hands slapped and scraped, clawing for escape. The snapping of bones and the juicy, fibrous tearing of muscle came with the struggle, flooding the wood with blood and bowels, black as pitch and stinking of rot. It dripped between the boards.

Another howl, the screws tightened, her skull threatened to split like a melon.

Like a puff of smoke in the wind, it vanished so quickly that Karen keeled over as all the stress in her body suddenly released. She lay face down for what felt like hours, seconds stretched out by the cloying darkness around them until she finally blinked and evened out her ragged breathing. She clenched her shaking hands against the ground and slowly pushed herself upright, swallowing hard against the urge to vomit.

Casting a glance at Olivia revealed her to be in a similar state.

Karen grunted and used the wall behind her to stand on uncertain legs. She moved to the cellar entrance, slowly climbing the stairs that weren’t much taller than she was, and carefully pushed the hatch open.

There was no noise, no uncomfortable scratching at her neck, and nothing immediately took her head off. She pushed the hatch open and climbed out, displacing the small carpet.

Lawrence lay disembowelled, and parts of him the creature must have directly touched were rapidly rotting into a discoloured, slimy soup. The walls and floor were splattered with his viscera, slowly dripping and pooling.

Karen clenched her teeth and glanced around the room. She spotted an old blanket on the couch and took it, covering Lawrence before Olivia could gather herself and come up.

It didn’t take a minute more. Olivia slowly climbed out of the cellar and took one, long look at Lawrence’s body, her face slowly creasing with barely contained anger, before she walked out the door without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing and want to see original work from me, please consider looking me up on Amazon under "Sophie Lack," I write science fiction and fantasy :)


	3. The Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Body horror scene

Finding Eddie meant backtracking. The school wasn’t far from the house they used to hide, so Olivia retraced their steps—it was too much to hope that the monster at the cabin was the only thing nearby. Sweeping flashlights moved down the brook and forced them to hunker down in a cluster of bushes.

Three singing townies walked along the far side with heavy, trampling footsteps, eyes flashing in the dark and clutching axes and hatchets in their free hands. The _thing_ that killed Lawrence trailed behind the group, a twisted human figure of fibrous tar, wrapped in frayed webbing and connective tissue that undulated across its stretched out form.

 **"** **̵** **Th** **͡** **e** **͝** **i** **͠** **r** **b** **̕** **l** **͝** **oo** **̴** **d** **̶** **h** **̴** **as** **͞** **͘** **wa** **҉** **she** **̡** **d** **ou** **͜** **t** **o** **̕** **u** **͜** **r** **͡** **po** **͏** **l** **lutio** **҉** **n** **̴** **..** **͏** **.** **̸** **"** **̧**

Karen tried to take in more of it, tried to take in the details, but her eyes throbbed and watered, and pain pulsed across her brow, worsening with every second she looked at the beast.  She shook her head and looked away, only to see Olivia blinking blood from her eyes and holding the side of her head—she looked down.

 **"S** **̢** **wa** **͞** **ll** **͡** **o** **̸** **w** **҉** **e** **̴** **d** **͘** **i** **̨** **n** **̨** **t** **̵** **e** **̢** **r** **̢** **r** **͠** **or** **̛** **a** **̵** **nd** **̨** **҉** **t** **͟** **he g** **̡** **lo** **̡** **o** **͡** **m** **͘** **of** **͠** **̸** **t** **͡** **h** **͜** **e** **͝** **g** **̛** **r** **͢** **a** **̢** **v** **͏** **e** **̵** **.** **̢** **.** **͢** **."**

Copper touched Karen’s nose and when the fluid from her eyes hit her lips she reflexively licked them. It was blood. She kept her head down, silently urging the townies and their monster to hurry along.

 **"** **͜** **An** **҉** **d** **̷** **̕** **the s** **̵** **p** **͞** **l** **͏** **en** **͠** **d** **͡** **id** **̡** **stars in** **͝** **t** **̶** **he** **͜** **ir g** **̸** **lo** **̢** **r** **̧** **y** **̡** **do** **th** **͞** **wav** **̵** **e.** **͠** **.** **͞** **."**

When they finally moved out of earshot, Karen made a silent gesture to continue and Olivia nodded.

Making it back to Wesvalley Road was thankfully uneventful, even as the fog Karen spotted earlier made its move on the town, filling the streets with a smothering haze. Olivia still knew her way and brought them down Cummings Road where it split around the High School. The building itself was flanked by a large visitor’s centre and what used to be a skating track used for the Olympics.

As the school loomed closer, Karen frowned and tapped Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia stopped immediately, turned her head, and Karen pointed out two large posts in front of the school. It looked like a couple of bodies were tied to them but details were hard to make out at a distance.

Olivia made a binoculars gesture with a question sign. Karen kept one hand on Olivia and lifted the other to her visor, adjusting the focus and visual settings until she could see clearly.

Her stomach dropped.

The two people were definitely dead. Their guts shucked like oysters and the cavity stuffed with what looked like water weeds. Fish heads filled their mouths and their jaws looked broken to accommodate more of the foul things.

Karen brought her vision back to normal focus and shook her head, making a ‘dead’ gesture. Olivia simply nodded and carried on towards the school.

The two bodies turned out to be the only _gruesome_ displays, but not the last. The front doors of the school bore the words:

_iam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna_

“Now justice returns…honoured rules return,” Karen murmured, frowning deeply. “Isn’t that from…?”

“The great seal of the United States,” Olivia muttered, brushing a hand across the white paint. “ _Novus ordo seclorum,_ new order of the ages—what do you think this will accomplish, Arthur?”

Karen looked over her shoulder. “We shouldn’t stay out here.”

Olivia slipped inside without a word and Karen followed, taking out her suppressed side-arm. She switched to simple night-vision in the dark lobby and noted fresh, muddy footprints on the floor. Olivia noticed too and began to follow them into the only hallway on the left, knife at the ready. Karen glanced at the right hallway and the stairs opposite the door, two sets going up, two going down. She followed Olivia and kept her gun low.

The school interior wasn’t what Karen was used to seeing when she visited old buildings. Almost everything looked recently used and kept in an orderly fashion, or as orderly as it could be given the situation. Class rooms were set up to be functional with repaired desks and chairs, and there were signs and notes on the walls made from coarse, fresh paper. Class schedules for the current year, important dates, and reminders for students.

Karen frowned deeply and tried to push the students out of her mind, how young they might be, if they were alone—if they were hurt. All it would lead her to were thoughts of Shaun, both of them.

 **"H** **̨** **e** **̵** **c** **̸** **a** **͠** **n** **͠** **t** **̧** **e** **̛** **ach** **͢** **y** **͠** **ou t** **̸** **o** **͘** **g** **̨** **l** **̵** **e** **̴** **a** **͡** **m** **̵** **t** **̧** **oo** **͝** **, bo** **̕** **y!** **̨** **"** **͢**

A voice from around the corner made them stop. Olivia edged closer, close enough to look and gesture at Karen how many were there: two.

 **"It** **͝** **'** **͟** **s** **̧** **҉** **for** **̨** **yo** **͢** **ur** **͘** **͢** **g** **͡** **oo** **͘** **d** **͘** **,** **͜** **t** **̵** **he** **̶** **st** **̕** **a** **̨** **r** **̡** **s** **̛** **k** **҉** **no** **̧** **w** **̷** **b** **҉** **e** **̸** **s** **̶** **t** **.** **̶** **"** **͜**

Karen slowly crept around the corner. Two figures stood outside a door, hatches in hand, and one of them was trying the handle. She lifted her gun and spared a glance for Olivia, who seemed to have no objection, and fired. One round hit the nearest townie in the head. The other shot her friend in the eye when they turned towards Karen in shock.

Stillness.

Only the sound of her and Olivia’s breathing followed. The muffled clack-clack of Karen’s Walther didn’t appear to draw any unwanted attention, no hurried footsteps or alarmed shouting—none inside the school anyway. It was quiet enough to go unnoticed for now.

The door cracked open, revealing the face of a gaunt young man with scruffy facial hair.

Karen lifted her hands in a peaceful gesture, letting the Walther hang on her thumb. Her suit could take a beating if he wasn’t friendly, but she didn’t want to threaten someone who might already feel terrorised. “We’re here to help,” she said quietly.

“Who are you?” he asked with a hoarse voice, like his throat was damaged.

Olivia stepped around the corner. “Peter, is that you?”

Shocked, he opened the door and moved out into the hallway. “Olivia? Where… where have you been?”

Karen stood up and holstered her gun for the moment as the two talked. “On the run. I tried to confront Arthur and he threw me in a box. I came back with help,” Olivia gestured to her, “but this shit is far worse than when I left it.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably and Karen noted the shake in his hands. He wrung them hard and moved closer. “We’ve got about twenty people hiding in here. I know there are more around town. Some are holed up in the old Plaza. It’s been all we can do to just… hide and hope.”

Olivia closed the short distance, putting a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “We’re going to end this. We need to find Eddie, Peter. Where is he?”

A dark, distant look passed over Peter’s face and he hung his head. “He’s dead.”

“What?”

“They took Brenda and lil’ Thomas. Tried to make him comply and turn over his notes. He refused, made sure it was all hidden ‘cus he knew we’d need it. Arthur had them executed and we found Eddie’s body the next morning. Took himself off with poison.”

Olivia’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

Giving them a moment, Karen passed by and crouched over the bodies. She pulled one aside and laid it out on its back, getting a good look at what exactly was going on while she could. The townies hadn’t looked right since the moment they got here but now she could make sure it wasn’t a trick or malfunction.

The eyes were large and flashed unnaturally when light hit them, like the eyes of a crocodile, and their teeth reminded Karen of a piranha. The image of mirelurk kings flicked through her mind and Karen searched the body for other mutations. She found webbing between the fingers, the nails were getting sharper and thicker, and patches of skin were growing dark and leather, shifting away from a human tone to the blue-green of a long infested wreck at the bottom of a lake.

She could see it so clearly, the shifting of water weeds and silt, a chitinous face emerging from the gloom, a crown of plates upon its head, mouth cracking open in rows upon rows of teeth and eyes darker than anything she could fathom.

“Karen!”

Olivia’s hushed whisper brought her back to the hallway and she balked, hastily popping the faceplate off her helmet to breathe deeply.

Olivia gave her a worried look. “What happened?”

What indeed—Karen slowly shook her head, trying to push away the phantom sensation of clawed, webbed hands dragging down her back, drawing blood, clouding the water…

She shook her head again and abruptly stood up. “This fucking place is just like the quarry,” she muttered, resealing her faceplate. “The longer we stay here the more it’ll fuck with us. We need to keep moving.”

Olivia stared at her for a long moment and Karen finally noticed the hand on her arm with the slow head turn of someone only just becoming aware of their own body. She took a deep, slow breath and exhaled just the same. “Where are Willock’s notes?”

Peter cleared his throat to draw her attention. He was holding a hatchet now, probably taken from his attackers. “I can show you where, then I need to make some rounds. Those…people you took care of—they shouldn’t have been here. I need to warn the others.”

Olivia looked at her, silently asking if she was good to go, and Karen just nodded. Olivia didn’t look convinced but she let go and gestured for Peter to lead them. It wasn’t too far, just a few halls away, and he left them to it.

The office was small, with a desk, a couch and a coffee table, and a row of filing cabinets next to the door. Eddie must have used the couch as a bed from the looks of things. A key from the desk unlocked the filing cabinets, more specifically it opened the bottom most drawer of the furthest one along where Eddie had hidden his notes.

Arthur started calling himself the Herald of Aqualbhath, this much they knew, but he also held ‘sermons’ about the glory of the ‘good old days,’ about purity and true patriots reclaiming America from the savagery of her foes. The land needed to be cleansed of the filth of mutation and be made clean again. Humanity was to be purified under the gaze of Aqualbhath in its most divine wisdom.

Olivia shook her head, pacing with a well-worn pack of notes in hand, flicking the pages as she went. “He sounds like fanatic Enclave again, President Eden and the Colonel to a lesser extent,” she murmured, frowning. “He said to my face that what we were doing here was a good thing. Told me we would see it through and become better for it.”

Karen looked up from transcribing information onto her pip-boy. “It might be safe to assume he was lying.”

Olivia stopped dead, nostrils flaring, jaw tightening, and slowly hung her head. “You… might be right.”

“You were ready to believe that.”

“Disappointment has been a lifelong companion to me. The only stable thing in my life was my duty to the Enclave, from the moment I could learn my place in the world to the second it fell apart. People disappoint, it’s what they do, Arthur just took  longer to get there.”

“What about the others?”

A sigh escaped her and Olivia rubbed her brow. “I don’t know. Perhaps I was only one who really changed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t sway me like he’s done to so many people here. I just don’t know.” She shook her head and continued reading, only to turn on her heel towards Karen. “Hang on…”

Karen raised a brow. “What is it?”

“He overheard the old guard talking about Arthur, how he’s become deathly afraid of fire and won’t even go near the incinerator.”

“Incinerator?”

“There’s a lab in our facility under Moose Lodge, it has an industrial incinerator for biomedical waste. Pre-war, the lab was used for experiments on the local flora and fauna from the files we pulled. They had a lot of agricultural methods, historical and contemporary saved for cross examination. We used that data to help the locals as a gesture of good faith on… my suggestion.”

Olivia’s shoulders dropped and she rubbed her brow again. Karen rose from her seat and placed a firm hand on Olivia’s right arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

Another sigh—Olivia looked at her with hard, solemn eyes. “I didn’t cause this, no. But _I’m_ the reason we set up shop here. My ideas got us in good with the locals, let us ingratiate and integrate until we were inextricable. Until we became their god damn leaders. And I was so wrapped up in that naïve idea of things changing for the better that I didn’t pay close enough attention. I got soft, I got sloppy, and now these people are paying for it.”

Karen grabbed her other arm. “Stop it. Arthur did this and we’re going to put an end to it. But I need you to focus on the now if we’re going to get through this.”

Olivia looked at the notes in her hands again. “You’re right,” she murmured. “Maybe… this started with the crown, maybe it can end with it.”

Karen let go and crossed her arms. “What are you thinking?”

A cacophony of howls and screams echoed up the hallway, both frightened and frightening—Arthur’s minions were here.

They moved in unison, grabbing the notes and stuffing them into a worn satchel that Olivia slung around her shoulder. Karen went out the door first, Walther drawn, and gestured for Olivia to follow when she saw it was clear. Karen tried to pick a path back the way they came in but stopped at the first corner when the bark of a shotgun hit her ears.

She glanced around the corner and saw two menacing figures crouched over a fresh body in the middle of the hallway. More of Arthur’s minions were heading towards them but hadn’t seen them yet.

Karen hurried down the other end of the hallway to find it clear and pressed on with Olivia close behind.

Boots thumped against the floor and they froze at a crossing of hallways, watching a pack of hostile townies run by, hollering about the ‘splendid stars’ and unity as they dragged along a couple of unaffected townies. Once passed, they continued onward, keeping as low a profile as they could manage.

Gunfire cracked off nearby and Karen clenched her teeth. The _human_ screams were all around, some were cut off abruptly, others turned into shrieks of pain, most were terrified—and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Another pack forced them to divert course—Karen couldn’t turn the next corner. There were more in the way. She pushed her hand out behind her to stop Olivia and about faced into a nearby doorway. Not enough room to manoeuvre—they couldn’t stay there. Olivia grabbed her by the coat and pulled her through the doorway into the room beyond. The assembly hall by the looks of it, converted into a makeshift living space if the beds were anything to go by.

The hollering packs followed them and they ducked under the bleachers, obscured beneath the slats and shadows just in time to avoid detection. The mutated folk rushed by the bleachers, dragging more townies with them to the other end of the hall. Another set of doors on that side burst open, bringing more miserable sights to behold.

It became clear this was where everyone was being dragged. Mutants shoved and beat them until the townspeople huddled tightly together, clutching one another and instinctively pushing adolescents to the middle where they were harder to reach.

When it finally calmed the air was thick enough to suffocate in, punctuated by whimpers, heavy breathing, and the spats of growling laughter that slithered from distorted throats.

A shard of glass dragged against the point where her neck met her skull and Karen clenched her jaw. She noted the tension in Olivia’s shoulders.

It was here again.

A middle-aged man walked through the doors they used. His calm, firm boot steps silenced what little noise the townspeople made and he walked with a looming, domineering posture, aided by his tall, broad-shouldered frame. He wore the same uniform as Olivia with additional embellishments for higher rank, but it was heavily stained with what looked like crude oil.

Upon his bald head sat the crown, embedded and fastened into place by thick, leathery plates of skin growing over the base of it and slowly leaking thin trails of inky fluid. It dripped into his eyes but that didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were bigger than they should be, liquid black with large spots of luminescent green serving as his pupils—Karen swallowed hard against the rising bile in her throat.

Arthur Gladstone had seen better days.

His mouth curled in a sneer at the gathered people and the scraping sensation worsened. Karen squinted through the pain and resisted the urge to look directly at it as the monster from Lawrence’s house stalked into the assembly, dragging Peter by his legs in one hand. It brought him it front of Arthur and crouched next to the imposing man who would call himself a ‘godly’ herald. The townspeople wilted in its presence, all of them avoided looking at it.

 **"I** **͘** **'v** **̕** **e t** **̡** **ri** **͠** **e** **d** **͡** **s** **͞** **o** **̸** **hard** **͘** **t** **̴** **o b** **͟** **e** **͟** **und** **̢** **er** **̧** **s** **͠** **tan** **̷** **di** **̕** **n** **̴** **g.** **͢** **I** **kn** **̵** **o** **͞** **w** **̧** **gr** **͞** **e** **̴** **at** **ne** **҉** **s** **s c** **͠** **an** **͠** **b** **͠** **e** **̛** **i** **̵** **nt** **̡** **imi** **͏** **d** **͟** **a** **͢** **t** **̕** **i** **͜** **n** **̷** **g, t** **͢** **e** **̴** **rri** **̢** **f** **yin** **͝** **g** **͏** **͢** **e** **͘** **v** **̸** **e** **҉** **n, but** **҉** **y** **o** **̕** **u c** **an** **͟** **only** **̵** **̶** **s** **̨** **hy** **̕** **fro** **̨** **m** **͠** **it** **͏** **fo** **r so** **̧** **̡** **l** **̕** **on** **̧** **g** **͡** **͡** **bef** **͜** **ore** **͞** **it** **͡** **be** **͟** **c** **͟** **o** **͘** **mes** **͏** **... in** **̢** **su** **l** **̧** **t** **i** **̨** **ng.”**

Karen found herself grinding her teeth, eyes fixed on Arthur. He looked down at Peter for a moment, as if contemplating whether to swat a fly, and grabbed him scruff. **"Wake** **̢** **up,** **̧** **boy!** **̢** **I** **n** **̶** **eed** **͝** **y** **͡** **o** **̨** **u** **̛** **r** **͏** **at** **͝** **t** **̡** **en** **̶** **t** **̶** **ion** **for** **͢** **s** **͞** **ometh** **͝** **in** **̛** **g** **̧** **sp** **̨** **ecial!"** he snarled, exposing the same inhuman teeth as his minions. He roughly shook Peter awake and dropped him on his knees once his eyes opened. The boy could barely hold himself upright and sagged to the side, holding his head with a contorted look of deep discomfort. Being so close to that creature, to the _crown_ …

Karen swallowed again and tasted acid.

Arthur’s mouth split in a wide grin and he began to circle around Peter, addressing both him and the crowd with faux affability. **"** **͏** **Y** **͟** **o** **͠** **ung** **͟** **me** **͜** **n** **͡** **l** **̸** **i** **̡** **k** **̴** **e** **̷** **y** **̡** **o** **̛** **u a** **͞** **re** **̴** **neede** **d** **͏** **in** **͘** **ti** **̢** **mes o** **̢** **f** **̕** **cr** **̸** **i** **͏** **s** **̨** **is** **̕** **an** **̷** **d I'v** **̨** **e t** **ried to** **im** **̡** **pr** **͞** **e** **̴** **ss** **͞** **̴** **t** **̨** **ha** **͜** **t** **f** **͘** **a** **̷** **c** **͞** **t** **͜** **up** **o** **͡** **n** **͡** **y** **͢** **ou** **̡** **all** **͝** **͝** **b** **̛** **u** **͟** **t yo** **̧** **u're** **͟** **too** **̵** **a** **͞** **f** **̧** **raid** **̸** **t** **̸** **o** **̸** **un** **̛** **d** **͏** **e** **̵** **rst** **͟** **a** **nd,** **̷** **a** **̵** **n** **͢** **d** **͝** **̨** **I** **͏** **get** **̢** **it.** **̷** **͞** **Th** **̷** **e** **̵** **se t** **͜** **h** **̕** **in** **̴** **g** **͢** **s** **͝** **c** **̵** **a** **̷** **n** **͠** **be** **͘** **t** **͟** **r** **͝** **icky,** **̛** **ov** **̸** **erw** **h** **elm** **̡** **i** **̛** **ng,** **͏** **i** **͜** **t** **͢** **was no d** **̴** **i** **̨** **ff** **e** **͢** **r** **͡** **e** **̡** **nt** **̶** **f** **͠** **o** **͘** **r** **̧** **me** **̢** **.** **̧** **”** He gesticulated for emphasis and the very air itself curdled like milk, dying on the tongue in a wash of sour rot. **"B** **̕** **u** **̴** **t** **o** **͝** **u** **̷** **r** **͏** **b** **̨** **e** **̢** **au** **̶** **t** **if** **̧** **u** **̨** **l co** **̧** **untry** **͞** **̢** **h** **͘** **a** **͡** **s** **̴** **ne** **͡** **ve** **̡** **r be** **̧** **for** **̛** **e** **͜** **been** **̴** **s** **o** **̴** **i** **̢** **mp** **̧** **e** **͜** **r** **ille** **̡** **d** **͜** **̢** **a** **n** **̡** **d it** **̡** **can'** **͢** **t** **b** **̵** **e** **̛** **ig** **̛** **no** **̷** **red!** **I** **̵** **w** **o** **n** **͢** **'t** **҉** **a** **̕** **l** **͝** **l** **̨** **ow** **̶** **fe** **̵** **ar** **͏** **͟** **t** **͢** **o** **͟** **s** **͢** **to** **̢** **p** **̶** **̵** **u** **͢** **s** **͏** **fr** **̸** **om** **̴** **do** **̷** **ing wha** **͜** **t** **̢** **is ri** **̕** **g** **͟** **ht** **͢** **̡** **f** **̶** **or** **̢** **Amer** **͟** **ica** **̛** **҉** **a** **͡** **n** **̴** **d her pe** **͟** **op** **͢** **l** **͜** **e** **͜** **.** **͏** **W** **͠** **e** **͠** **mus** **͡** **t** **͢** **u** **͞** **n** **͟** **i** **t** **͘** **e** **̴** **!** **̡** **"**

“You’re a fucking monster!”

Some brave but foolish soul screamed from the captive audience, quickly jumped on by those nearest him.

Arthur let out a bark of hard, callous laughter. **"It's** **̛** **̨** **okay to be a** **̢** **fr** **̧** **a** **̡** **i** **̸** **d, b** **̕** **u** **͜** **t** **t** **̴** **he** **̴** **time fo** **r** **̴** **f** **ea** **r ha** **̕** **s** **̷** **͞** **pa** **҉** **s** **̸** **s** **e** **͢** **d.** **̴** **"** **̧** He stopped in front of Peter and placed his fingertips either side of the boy’s head. Peter trembled, gasping in short, shuddering breaths, and Arthur’s voice dropped to a noxious baritone. **_"_** ** _͠_** ** _W_** ** _̶͢͠_** ** _e_** ** _͟͝_** **_̢_** ** _m_** ** _̶͠_** ** _us_** ** _͏_** ** _t_** ** _͜͢_** **_̶̵_** ** _b_** ** _͞_** ** _e_** ** _̢_** ** _p_** ** _̷_** ** _u_** ** _҉_** ** _r_** ** _̴̴_** ** _e_** ** _͢҉_** **_̷͘_** ** _a_** ** _̨͟͠_** ** _g_** ** _̧͜͡_** ** _a_** ** _̵_** ** _i_** ** _̷_** ** _n_** ** _̴͢_** ** _._** ** _̷̨_** ** _"_**

The rapid click of her Geiger counter rattled in Karen’s helmet.

A putrid lime glow birthed from within the crown upon his head, slithering from within the alien metal until it overtook the form. Embers lifted from the surface and the glow spilled into Arthur’s eyes, illuminating a spider web of veins and arteries that wound their through his face, neck, and beyond. It raced down his arms, flooding his hands until his fingertips were nothing but solid light. Peter _screamed_ as it touched him, his whole body jolting, trying to escape. Arthur held him effortlessly, watching his skin blacken and flake with a proud, leering grin, jagged teeth separated by thin shards of horrible light.

The smell of ash and ozone choked the air and Peter grabbed wildly at Arthur’s wrists. Arthur bellowed over the boy’s agonising screams, **"** **̢** **he** **҉** **w** **̢** **h** **o** **͘͜͡** **͡** **s** **̡͢** **o** **̷͡** **l** **͘͜͝** **e** **̸̕** **m** **̸** **n** **͘** **l** **̸** **y** **̴҉̶** **̵** **s** **͘͏** **we** **̢͠** **a** **̨̧** **r** **̕** **s** **̶͠** **͢** **t** **̶** **o** **͝** **͝** **de** **͘** **f** **̢͟** **e** **̸͡** **n** **҉** **d** **͞** **ou** **̷͡** **r** **҉** **҉̢** **g** **̛** **r** **̶̨̢** **e** **͠** **a** **̕** **t** **̸** **na** **͠** **t** **͏̵** **i** **͏̴͝** **o** **̵̴** **n** **҉** **͡** **ag** **͠** **a** **͘͏** **i** **̴** **n** **̴** **s** **̢͘** **t** **͠** **h** **̡** **e** **͞** **r** **͜͡** **e** **̨͢** **n** **̢** **e** **̢** **m** **i** **̢** **e** **̸͜** **s** **̶** **!** **͡** **"**

Nails dragged against the inside of her skull and Karen yelped, clutching her head.

Peter’s body began to stretch and warp in Arthur’s hands. Like moisty taffy wrapped around poles of crumbling clay his muscles and bones reshaped into something angular and lanky. His screams devolved into gibbering and Arthur continued his warped oath, **̵** **"** **̸w** **il** **͟** **l** **҉̵** **b** **҉̕** **e** **͢͞͡** **a** **͜** **r** **̛͟** **̡͞** **t** **͠** **h** **̢͜** **e** **͠** **͘** **p** **̸** **u** **̕** **r** **͢** **e** **̷̴̧** **s** **̛͡** **t** **̶͜͜** **f** **̕** **ai** **͘** **t** **͏̸̧** **h** **̷** **̶** **a** **n** **̶̢** **d** **͠** **̕͝** **a** **̡͏** **l** **̴̡** **l** **͠** **e** **̕** **gi** **҉̢** **a** **̵̸** **n** **̨** **c** **͘** **e** **̢̧** **,** **̧͞** **a** **̕͠͞** **n** **̸͞** **d** **ob** **̶͡҉** **e** **̷̕** **y** **̶̕** **t** **͞͝** **h** **҉** **e** **̷̕͡** **͞** **w** **̷͠** **i** **̷̛͠** **l** **҉̷͜** **l** **͠** **̸** **of** **̵͢** **̶͜** **o** **̨͟҉** **u** **҉͠** **r** **̸͠͡** **̡** **S** **̢** **av** **i** **o** **͜͝** **u** **̕͟͏** **r** **̴** **!"** **̢**

The nails gouged, piercing the delicate film wrapped around the brain and scoring the bone so deeply they might break through and burst into the open air.

Olivia was on the floor, arms around her head. Karen clung to the bleachers for support, fighting the urge to empty her stomach right then and there.

Through the squirming, tenebrous pitch of Peter’s body emerged glistening white talons, long, translucent teeth, and glowing blank eyes. His clothing, torn and frayed through the process, finally disintegrated into rotten scraps.

Karen blinked blood from her vision and looked down, one hand instinctively slipping to her revolver.

The counter fell silent and the glow receded. Karen dared to look at Arthur, teeth grinding unbidden.

Arthur spread his arms, laughing triumphantly. **"Pra** **͜** **i** **̷** **se** **̕** **A** **͡** **q** **͞** **ual** **͜** **b** **̷** **ha** **͜** **t** **̕** **h, h** **͞** **e gra** **͟** **nts** **** **u** **̵** **s** **********a** **̷** **n** **͜** **ew an** **͟** **gel** **͢** **of** **̢** **͟** **Am** **͏** **e** **̨** **r** **͏** **ic** **͏** **a!** **̵** **"** **͡**

The thing that was once Peter slowly rose to its feet, blinked once, and spoke.

 ** _"_** ** _̧͞_** ** _W_** ** _̶̧̛҉̡_** ** _e_** ** _̷_** **_̕͞_** ** _p_** ** _͟͢_** ** _l_** ** _̛_** ** _e_** ** _̴̡͏̶_** ** _d_** ** _͘͞_** ** _g_** ** _͢͜͢͜_** ** _e_** ** _̛͘_** **_̴͘͜͞_** ** _o_** ** _͢͞_** ** _u_** ** _̢̧̡_** ** _r_** ** _͡͝_** ** _s_** ** _̢͞_** ** _e_** ** _̸̨̨͘͝_** ** _l_** ** _̷̨_** ** _v_** ** _̶_** ** _e_** ** _̡͠͠_** ** _s_** ** _̕͜҉̧_** **_̸̧͢_** ** _t_** ** _̶҉̸̢͞_** ** _o_** ** _̴_** **_͞_** ** _A_** ** _͘͠_** ** _m_** ** _͢҉͠_** ** _e_** ** _̴̵͘_** ** _r_** ** _͢͢͠_** ** _i_** ** _̧̢_** ** _c_** ** _̸̧̢͏̴_** ** _a_** ** _̡͏̛_** **_̨̨͜͟͟_** ** _t_** ** _̴͢͜͝_** ** _h_** ** _͘_** ** _e_** ** _̸͟͡_** **_̧_** ** _j_** ** _̸̡͘͘͠_** ** _e_** ** _̢͜͢͡_** ** _w_** ** _̛_** ** _e_** ** _̨͘͟͡_** ** _l_** ** _̷̢͝_** ** _,_** ** _̴̷͞_** **_̵͘͝͞_** ** _c_** ** _̨͏̸_** ** _o_** ** _̸͘͝_** ** _p_** ** _̕_** ** _i_** ** _̴̡͟͝_** ** _o_** ** _̴̡͏̷_** ** _u_** ** _͟_** ** _s_** ** _̴̷̛̛͠_** **_̶͘͘_** ** _a_** ** _̵҉̵̕͠_** ** _n_** ** _̕_** ** _d_** ** _͢_** **_̶̵͘̕_** ** _d_** ** _̛͘͜_** ** _r_** ** _̛͟͢_** ** _e_** ** _̸̶̧_** ** _a_** ** _̵̛͢_** ** _m_** ** _̶͞_** ** _i_** ** _̢҉̨̛_** ** _n_** ** _̷͏̛͘͞_** ** _g_** ** _̸̶͘͜_** ** _,_** ** _̶̷͢_** **_̴̵͢_** ** _l_** ** _̕҉̷̧_** ** _a_** ** _̵͢͢͝͝_** ** _n_** ** _̸̴͝_** ** _d_** ** _͏͏̨͜͟_** **_̶̸̷̕_** ** _o_** ** _̶̡͢_** ** _f_** ** _̨͘̕_** **_̸̢͜͜͝_** ** _A_** ** _͟͠_** ** _q_** ** _̸̢̕_** ** _u_** ** _҉_** ** _a_** ** _͟҉͜_** ** _l_** ** _̡̨̛_** ** _b_** ** _̸͠_** ** _h_** ** _̡͘̕͜_** ** _a_** ** _̷̵_** ** _t_** ** _̸̨͡҉_** ** _h_** ** _̵͏͏_** ** _._** ** _̢͢͞_** ** _"_** ** _̡̢҉҉_**

The nails burst.

Karen pulled her revolver and fired at Peter through the bleachers, heart hammering against her ribs, bile in her throat. Tar sprayed from the thing’s head in a gaping hole, boneless and writhing with a thousand tendrils.

The room erupted.

Escape was a muddy smear in her mind and Karen let her instincts push her forward. She and Olivia scrambled from the bleachers and out the same door they entered. She grabbed her second flashbang and threw it over her shoulder. Whether it helped or not, she wouldn’t look to find out.

She couldn’t _look_.

She fixed on a window at the end of the hallway, a simple grid, thin separation, and sprinted for it faster than she ever had in her entire life.

Abhorrent howling echoed behind her and she couldn’t slow down even if she wanted to. Karen flung herself at the window shoulder first, smashing through the weak frame easily. She crashed and tumbled onto the ground outside and pushed herself to her feet, shards of glass raining on the concrete under her.

Olivia bolted after her and landed feet first. “This way!”

Karen fell into step behind her, racing across the nearby road towards a large building that was once dominated by glass. Only shattered remnants clung to a rusted skeletal framework. Olivia ran to the far end where the road split in two and turned right along the building down a slope.

The fog was thick now, obscuring the world beyond the road after only a few feet. Trees to the left, grass to the right.

Through the haze of adrenaline, Karen turned on her white thermal vision. It was a clear shot ahead—she risked a glance behind. There were figures on the road, giving chase. The howling followed and her heart thundered.

She could just make out a large structure, several stories, multiple connected buildings, and a wide open space with a few stripped cars. It had to be the old Plaza hotel. They were behind it, taking a road towards another residential area.

Karen risked another glance over her shoulder when the road levelled out. A few figures were getting closer. She whirled around and pulled her rifle from her back, firing at the nearest figure a hundred feet away. Their arm detached in a spray of white and they spun to the ground. She hurriedly backed away, firing at the next target and punching a hole through their abdomen. The next she took out one of their legs, blowing it off at the hip. Another took a bullet through the chest, their legs came out from under them and their back hit the ground.

A 50.cal round would put down almost anyone and anything in the right place. These were former townies wearing regular clothes. Even militia leathers may as well have been tissue paper.

The rest of the pack was further behind.

“Karen!”

She turned and kept running. They finally reached the houses and found more walls blocking an easy way through. Karen slung her rifle on her shoulder and followed Olivia without missing a beat when she vaulted over them. A loose section threatened to twist Karen’s ankle but she landed safely.

Olivia darted to the left from one house to another, crossing two roads and half a dozen neglected gardens before she stopped, skidding to her knees in the mud. She kicked at the bottom wall of a house and Karen quickly realised it wasn’t the wall but a window for a basement. She ducked down and kicked too, forcing it open together.

They slipped in, jammed the window shut, and collapsed in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing and want to see original work from me, please consider looking me up on Amazon under "Sophie Lack," I write science fiction and fantasy :)  
> (Not as horrifying as this, this story is an exercise for the most part)


	4. Into Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: A lot of fighting and violence in this chapter along with sensory descriptions some may find unsettling.

Olivia’s heavy breathing filled the dark space of the basement. Wild, frantic footsteps passed by only moments later, hounded by screams to ‘find them.’

Karen reflexively gripped her revolver, fighting the invasive urge to lift it under her chin. Her arm was as rigid as steel. She couldn’t feel her hand. She still wanted to puke.

When silence fell around them, she finally let go of her Colt and slowly picked herself up off the concrete floor.

The basement was a simple rectangle, grey bricks, grey floor, and lined with shelving units filled with various crates and chests. Non-perishable food and household supplies, most likely—there was a ratty old couch behind her.

Karen sat down and went about mechanically reloading her guns, finding comfort in familiarity. The motions brought back a sense of order to her thoughts ripped like bones from the meat when that _thing_ opened its mouth. Just like the first time—she couldn’t wrap her mind around what exactly it was about that creature’s voice. Even looking at it for too long made the eyes bleed.

She slotted the last bullet into the wheel of her Colt and put it away.

“What the fuck was that back there?” Olivia’s voice muttered from the floor. Karen didn’t even look to respond.

“You felt it too. You tell me.”

Olivia was silent. She slowly got up from the floor and brushed herself off, making a visible effort to control her breathing.

Karen blinked slowly and looked at her. “This is going to get worse. We need to end it. Soon.”

There was a scratching sound at the edge of her hearing, winding its way from one side to the next, scuttling, gnawing—termites chewing at the bone behind her ears, gorging on blood and cerebral pulp. She shook it off and gestured with a ‘come here’ motion at Olivia’s satchel. Olivia sighed and settled down beside her, emptying Eddie’s notes and tapes between them.

Karen went through the tapes, outwardly silent but listening to Eddie’s careful observations filter through her helmet. They steadily devolved into terrified, fragmented rambling as things got worse. It wasn’t the first time she listened to someone’s mental and emotional decline, and she doubted it would be the last.

Olivia tapped her arm, and she turned off the current recording. “He’s right about that,” she said, pointing out a paragraph detailing the nostalgic references Arthur and his minions constantly made. The pre-war national songs, mottos, even military oaths…

Karen frowned to herself. “Did you ever teach that?”

“No, never, what was the USA to a little mountain town just trying to get by after nuclear Armageddon? Closest thing to an identity up here is, ‘we’re from the Adirondacks,’ the mountains are our ‘country’ now.”

“Maybe Arthur corrected that while you were gone.”

“As if that would bring it back…”

They went back to reading, listening, and Karen did her best to separate the invasive thoughts and paranoia from rational lucidity.

A newer recording caught her attention:

_There’s a room Gladstone uses for rituals, I think. Maybe to talk with his god, like a shrine, or an altar, I’m not sure. I just heard a couple of guards talk about it like it was under the lodge, how long he spends ‘down in the chamber.’ They didn’t like it. Said Aqualbhath’s presence was too much for them._

Karen cleared her throat, “there’s a room beneath the lodge Arthur uses for…occult purposes.”

“Occult purposes.”

“What else do you want to call this?”

“Well, I… fuck. I’d guess the room in question is his private chambers. They’re behind his office.”

“We need to burn that room too.”

“Hell, I want to burn the whole fucking lodge down to be safe, but I really do _not_ want to die here.”

Karen sighed and popped the faceplate off her helmet so she could rub her eyes. “You’re not alone there.”

Olivia set the notes down and slipped her goggles off, rubbing her whole face. “Look, we are both exhausted by this shit. I say we drink some water, eat something, and catch maybe fifteen minutes each. Sharpen up a little.”

Nodding, Karen pulled a couple of nutrient bars from an inside coat pocket and handed one to Olivia. “I’ll watch first.”

 

* * *

 

Patrols were everywhere, forcing them to stop, start, and take detours to avoid detection. Arthur’s thralls stalked the town, singing and wailing in turns, invisible voices in the fog—to Olivia. Karen kept her head on a swivel, relaying how close the thralls were when their white figures lurched into sight.

The asphalt turned to gravel and mud when they hit the hiking trail. It took them close to the shoreline and over the old Lake Placid Dam. Water erosion had its way with the stone structure, but the townspeople replaced it with stacked up logs and a new, wooden bridge.

Olivia kept the lake to their right, skirting the water’s edge in the smothering fog. It wrapped around them, choking their natural vision to within a few feet of each other. Karen couldn’t help but eye the water even if she knew she couldn’t see anything below the surface. Maybe she would if something popped its head out, but water was a severe blind spot for thermal vision.

Mirelurk kings slithered through her mind, all webbing and talons, digging obsidian hooks into her flesh, pulling her below, _below_ , _b_ _̷̴_ _e_ _̢̨̛_ _l_ _̶͜_ _ow_ …

Her stomach rolled, sending a gnawing chill up her spine. She shook her head and focused on following Olivia.

As they crept along the shoreline, Olivia quietly noted that they just passed the Lake Placid Lodge. Their target wasn’t much further, and once they cleared a row of lake-side cabins, they followed the gentle slope of the terrain up to the looming shape of Moose Lodge. Moving up the side of it, Olivia stopped at a single door with a keypad.

Karen took out her Walther, taking deep, steady breaths while Olivia input the right code. Arthur must not have changed them because the door unlocked. She cast one last look around them before following Olivia inside.

It looked like any typical lodge, with rustic architecture and furniture, cosy decorations, and trails of inky fluid everywhere. The stains were on almost everything, and the seating area in the middle of the main room had dark, reddish stains amongst the black. Drag marks indicated something was moved from the area, but they weren’t wet—it wasn’t recent.

Olivia gestured to follow and moved across the main room into an alcove with two doors on either side. She turned left and opened it, revealing a set of stairs in the lodge basement. The basement was lined with casks, crates and storage shelves, forming a maze, not unlike the hastily erected walls throughout town.

Flanked floor to ceiling by a near black morass of lines and angles, Karen tried to keep her eyes on Olivia’s bright figure and not the encroaching darkness that curved in around her like rotting waves about to crest, plunging her into darkness, drowning, _drowning_ …

She shook her head again and bit the corner of her bottom lip hard enough for the flesh to give between her teeth, splitting, spilling copper across her tongue. Sharp, salty—she was aware again. Aware of the scratching, feathery touches of sharp, probing claws down her spine—she shook that off as well. It wasn’t real; she had to focus on what was _real_.

Finally, the entrance to the facility came into view, a large metal door with a keypad that Olivia was quick to deal with. The door hissed open at her command, and they slipped inside, leaving the trappings of a lodge behind and stepping onto the cold, industrial metal Karen was all too familiar with.

The lights were on, so she switched to a simple tactical interface.

They stood in a long corridor with a lift and a set of stairs at the end. Doors along the way led to various rooms, personnel quarters, a dining hall, and a low-level administration area. There was also an armoury and a utility room for repairs on equipment. Olivia opened up both with ease, and they picked up various explosives and materials to allow the jury-rigging of traps. She also picked up a bottle of accelerant for Arthur’s special chamber.

The facility might be mercifully quiet, but it wouldn’t be that way for much longer.

“Is _everyone_ looking for us?” Karen asked at the top of the stairs, glancing back at the entrance.

“Must be, I can’t remember when I last saw this place so… quiet,” said Olivia, her mouth a grim line. She spared a look at the dining hall and sighed. “Come on.”

Karen nodded, following Olivia down the stairs. Better to avoid being trapped in the lift if anyone was downstairs.

The second level greeted them with a security checkpoint, a small square room with an abandoned desk and another locked door that proved no real barrier to entry. Beyond it was a branching hallway leading off to three self-contained labs, a data processing hub, a conference room, a cell block, and the administrator’s office, along with a couple of storage rooms.

Olivia took them down the left branch and into a lab repurposed for weapons research. It was surprisingly well-kept despite the mess upstairs.

Karen set her stolen grenades down on the central counter while Olivia broke into a storage cabinet filled with components useful to them. She handed laser emitters and trigger mechanisms to Karen, keeping some for herself along with an experimental adhesive. “Let’s get this done quick as we can and regroup here.”

It was familiar work, laying trip-wires attached to grenades and lasers to jury-rigged bombs. Olivia got creative with her mine placement, making the ceiling as dangerous as the floor when combined with the adhesive and laser-trips. Olivia showed her the most likely route to trap; it was a straight shot from the checkpoint to the administrator’s office. All the same, they both put traps off the obvious path to be safe.

With the last of her grenades set, Karen carefully made her way back to the weapons lab and waited for Olivia. It didn’t take more than a minute for her to show up and bring them to the administrator’s office.

It was a rectangular space with the left wall taken up by an observation window in the lake waters. External lights tried to pierce the depths, but there was nothing to see in that slowly shifting void. Karen tore her eyes from it before she could get pulled in, glaring at the rest of the room. It took a moment for her to notice she was standing on a carpet instead of the metal flooring found in the rest of the facility.

A desk on the far end of the room stood solitary, covered in old papers and worn pre-war books. Behind it was a row of embedded bookshelves and display cases, and a smaller door.

Karen sent Olivia a look and got a nod in return. They moved on the door together and opened it.

At one point, the chamber beyond would have been the private quarters of whoever used to work here. Now every surface was covered in murals and frantic scrawling. The floor was dominated by imagery of kelp strangling humans, wrapping them like a spider would its prey, and the kelp cocoons splitting to reveal mirelurk kings.

Handmade effigies hung from the shelves and ceiling, misshapen, mutated figures in various states of change. Strange artefacts of bone, shell and sinew littered the room.

Karen’s stomach roiled, and she swallowed the hot bile in her throat. She looked away to see a personal desk pushed against the wall to her immediate right, overflowing with notebooks that looked new if stained. She picked up one of them and flicked through, finding page after page after page of text in a language she couldn’t read. It was written was such confidence and precision, but it resembled no language she had ever seen, and the longer she tried to figure out what it was the more her eyes throbbed. Grimacing, she tossed the notebook back on the pile.

She turned to see Olivia standing over Arthur’s cot, embedded against the wall in this tiny space. But it wasn’t the bed she was distracted by, it was the old flag hanging over it. While it had been desecrated with the same imagery as the rest of the room, Karen could nonetheless make out a ring of stars and a capital E in the middle of it.

Olivia wordlessly ripped the flag from the wall and took the bottle of accelerant from her pocket. She bunched up the flag and began to soak it in the stuff, dropping it on the bed where she proceeded to spread it around, making a circle around the room. She made sure to pour most of it on the notebooks, scattering them across the floor to make sure every one of them burned beyond use.

Karen stepped out, grabbing a handful of papers off Arthur’s official desk and scrunching them into a ball. She took a laser-lighter from her coat and turned back to find Olivia tossing the empty bottle over her shoulder, exiting the private chamber. “Do it,” she muttered, positioning herself to shut the door in a hurry.

Karen nodded and lit the paper, tossing it through the door. Olivia shut the room, and a great expulsion of air rattled through the ventilation.

 

**Ǹ̀** **̧̋̋̅̈́̑ͭ̆͞͞͏̺͕͕͕** **͇** **͍͓͙** **̐͋̈̓̅͒̓̽̌ͤͥ̿ͦͤ͌̚҉͎͓̩̯̪̜̥̙̰͎͈̲͝ͅ** **͇** **͈̹̥** **O** **͖͙̙̪͊̊̎̽ͧ̈́̌ͨ̎̎̂̽ͯ͑ͩͧ͘͘** **͇**

 

The screech was a thousand termites chewing through her skull all at once, bringing Karen to her knees where she curled in on herself, clutching her head as if to hold the disparate pieces of it together. “Fuck!” she sputtered, punching the floor, heat flooding her belly. She forced her eyes open through the pain and used the desk to help her stand up.

All feeling drained from her body.

A pair of figures floated outside the observation window, illuminated in all their terrible glory. They resembled mirelurk kings, but the eyes were a little too human, the mouths had lips with which to speak, and across their bodies were trinkets and jewellery of bone Karen knew to be human. She just knew.

Fins and webbing flowed from their bodies like blood spun into silk, scarlet robes for the dark keratin crowns upon their heads.

Their eyes glowed as Arthur’s did.

One pressed it’s palms to the glass, mouth opening in a shriek that slashed across Karen’s senses like a blade over ice.

**_"_** ** _̵̛_** ** _T_** ** _̶͘_** ** _h_** ** _̢_** ** _e_** ** _͘̕_** ** _s_** ** _̧_** ** _p_** ** _͘_** ** _l_** ** _͜_** ** _e_** ** _҉_** ** _n_** ** _̷̨_** ** _di_** ** _̛͘_** ** _d_** ** _͠_** **_͘͠_** ** _s_** ** _̶̡͞_** ** _t_** ** _͡͞_** ** _a_** ** _̴͘_** ** _r_** ** _͞_** ** _s!_** ** _̴͏҉_** **_͡_** ** _D_** ** _̡_** ** _e_** ** _̴̕_** ** _f_** ** _͜͝͝_** ** _i_** ** _͞_** ** _l_** ** _͟҉_** ** _e_** ** _̶_** ** _r_** ** _͏̡_** ** _!_** ** _̛͜_** **_̴_** ** _D_** ** _̡͜͞_** ** _e_** ** _̧҉_** ** _b_** ** _͡͏_** ** _a_** ** _͘_** ** _ser_** ** _͘͠_** **_͟͜͝_** ** _a_** ** _͏͜_** ** _n_** ** _̴_** ** _d_** ** _͡҉_** **_͘͟_** ** _d_** ** _̶̨͠_** ** _e_** ** _̡̡̧_** ** _f_** ** _̡_** ** _i_** ** _͟͞_** ** _l_** ** _̷_** ** _e_** ** _̛_** ** _r_** ** _҉͏_** ** _!_** ** _͟_** ** _"_** ** _͢_**

Her ears rang, and she felt something wet and warm trickle out of them.

The traps started to go off.

Olivia staggered to her feet, cursing, and Karen squinted through the pain as she pulled her rifle and levelled it across Arthur’s desk, ready to fire at whoever came through the door. Olivia followed suit, her breathing a little ragged.

The sound of traps firing steadily came closer, followed by the screams of the dying, losing limbs and suffering mutilation to reach them, but the door did eventually open. The first one was an Enclave soldier, splattered in the blood of his fellow thralls.

Karen squeezed the trigger, punching a hole through his helmet and mincing most of his head. The bullet went straight through, hitting the person directly behind him in a second spray of gooey crimson.

Olivia fired between the bolt-action rhythm of Karen’s rifle, every fresh jet of blood and viscera adding to the last until the corridor was a swamp of bodily fluids and death rattles.

Between the two of them, they managed to take out at least a dozen targets before someone had the bright idea to throw a grenade in the room. It arced over the desk, and Karen’s unnatural reflexes allowed her to grab it and throw it back before it went off. She was too focused to be taken down by something as trite as a fucking grenade.

All was quiet, long enough for Karen to take her eyes off the smoke heavy corridor and notice the creatures at the window were gone. Her stomach lurched, and she instinctively checked her ammunition. “We might have a bigger problem on the way. Those things are gone.”

Olivia took the opportunity to reload as well, shaking her head. “They shouldn’t know how to get in.”

“And if they do?”

“Then we kill them.”

Karen grunted at the pragmatism, appreciating it.

There was one bullet left in the chamber of her rifle. She switched magazines, leaving her with eight shots total. Third magazine, she had five remaining—that was forty-three shots. Should be enough. _Should_ be.

Olivia motioned to the smoking hallway. “Anything?”

Karen thumbed her vision back to white thermal. She immediately fired at the angular figure just about to reach the door. How they were so quiet slipped her mind—they needed to die. _Now_.

Olivia opened fire, trusting that Karen wasn’t shooting at nothing. The creature fell with an inhuman screech that cut the ears, blood gushing from its neck and leaving it writhing on the other bodies littering the corridor.

The second beast lunged over it and into the room, smoke trailing off the hard points of its scaly body. Time folded, squeezed into narrow focus with the monster bearing down on them.

Olivia buried a bullet in its shoulder. Karen clipped its waist.

It grabbed Karen by the shoulder, heaving her over the desk and throwing her across the room. She hit the doorframe hard. Her ribs cracked.

Olivia’s revolver barked rapidly, unloading into the monster. Karen pushed herself off the floor in time to see the thing slash Olivia’s face, knocking her back. It loomed over her, hissing, spines bristling down its back and clicking together in an alien chorus.

Karen ground her teeth, bringing herself to a crouch and lifting her rifle. “Aqualbhath, bear witness!”

The thing turned on her with a snarl. She fired into its face, pulping everything from the jaw upwards and splattering the ceiling with it. The towering body jolted, then flopped limply to the floor.

Karen sagged against the doorframe and smiled grimly before pulling the turn-bolt. She shot a tired glance over at Olivia who looked to be in much the same state. Olivia opened her mouth, “thanks for that, I—”

 

**F** **̧̢͎̯͉̲̓̓͗̔ͥ̓̌͝͠** **̣** **̤͚̪̲̫͙͚͙̼̫͉̮̥** **̷̶̡̓̆̏ͬ̅͊ͫ͐̒͠͝** **̳** **̜͓͍̬̥͔** **͇** **̘̗̻** **O** **͑̈́ͨͧͪ̐̔̓ͫ̈ͬ̆͋ͦͣ̆͛͏̡̜̪͈̬̯̥̥̱̝** **͇** **̠͎̝** **ͣͭ͒̎̿ͭ̿** **́̃** **̡̛͓̬̻** **͇** **̹** **O** **̋͛̄̐** **̀** **̮͙̈́ͧ͒̇̽͒̆ͦ̿̒ͣ̏ͪ͘** **͇** **̫̥̼̺͔̰̹̖̝͔͓̯ͅ** **̳** **ͪ͐̋̄̈̏̾ͮ** **́** **ͨ͛̅̇̓͒̏̿̇** **̃** **̵̡̹̮͖̪͖̬̯͡͡** **L̉́** **̅̋͌ͯͤ͆** **̉** **̷̷̔̇͊̊͛̍̒ͥͫ͡** **͇** **̻̩̘͚̠̩̠̠̖̺̯̩̖** ̯̲͙̜̦̺ͅȨ̶̡̱̥͚͖̪̠̮̯̦̟̗̀͌ͦ͛ͬ͑ͤ̏́͗͌̔͊̋ͦͫ͊̿ͬ

 

Stinging red blurred her vision and Karen all but seized. The room spun out from under her, throwing her guts into a nauseous scramble that had her fumbling wildly at her helmet. The visor popped off and she sagged to the side, expelling a stream of foaming bile on the floor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and the stench of ozone assaulted her senses with each intake.

Heavy boots walked through the door and Karen barely mustered the strength to turn her head.

Luminescent dots glared down at her, and she tried to grab her rifle, move it, tighten her grip, _anything_ , but her limbs felt disconnected, heavy—useless.

Arthur’s voice came with all the pleasure of listening to sheering metal.

**"L** **̕** **et** **͠** **n** **͢** **o** **͠** **g** **͏** **oo** **͢** **d** **d** **҉** **e** **͏** **ed** **g** **̴** **o u** **͠** **n** **̕** **punis** **̷** **hed..** **.** **͏** **"** **͠** he muttered, stalking towards Olivia by the desk. He stood over her for a moment, hands clenched, before kicking her in the ribs. **_"_** ** _I_** ** _̨_** ** _w_** ** _͠_** ** _as g_** ** _̧_** ** _raci_** ** _̧_** ** _o_** ** _̕_** ** _u_** ** _҉_** ** _s_** ** _̴_** **_͢_** ** _t_** ** _͝_** ** _o y_** ** _͠_** ** _ou_** ** _̛_** ** _!"_** he bellowed. He grabbed her by the coat and threw her into the middle of the room.

Karen’s heart thundered in her ears, and she fought against the dizziness, the disconnect—she couldn’t stay like this. Not if she wanted to _live_.

Arthur glowered at Olivia, jaw jutting in an open-mouthed snarl. **_"I_** ** _͜_** ** _tri_** ** _e_** ** _҉_** ** _d_** ** _̕_** **_̸_** ** _t_** ** _͠_** ** _o_** ** _͝_** ** _s_** ** _͜_** ** _av_** ** _͜_** ** _e_** ** _̡_** ** _you_** ** _͢_** ** _,_** ** _͟_** ** _to_** ** _sh_** ** _ow_** ** _̨_** ** _y_** ** _͟_** ** _o_** ** _͟_** ** _u_** ** _͜_** ** _h_** ** _̕_** ** _is gl_** ** _̢_** ** _o_** ** _҉_** ** _ri_** ** _͏_** ** _ou_** ** _̛_** ** _s l_** ** _̧_** ** _ig_** ** _͢_** ** _h_** ** _͢_** ** _t_** ** _̵_** ** _!_** ** _̡_** ** _”_** He circled her, shooting a glare at Karen who was quietly regaining enough strength to sit up properly. **_"Aqua_** ** _lbhat_** ** _͏_** ** _h_** ** _҉_** ** _w_** ** _̨_** ** _ill_** ** _͝_** ** _sa_** ** _̧_** ** _ve_** ** _̷_** **_̕_** ** _ou_** ** _͢_** ** _r_** ** _̡_** **_͟_** ** _c_** ** _҉_** ** _oun_** ** _͢_** ** _tr_** ** _̵_** ** _y,_** ** _͘_** **_͘_** ** _h_** ** _͝_** ** _e_** ** _͏_** ** _'ll_** ** _͠_** ** _save_** ** _҉_** **_̕_** ** _us al_** ** _̡_** ** _l_** ** _͞_** ** _f_** ** _͟_** ** _ro_** ** _̨_** ** _m_** ** _͜_** ** _t_** ** _̢_** ** _he_** ** _͠_** **_̸_** ** _w_** ** _̛_** ** _r_** ** _̵_** ** _e_** ** _t_** ** _͏_** ** _c_** ** _̛_** ** _hes_** **_̡_** ** _wh_** ** _̴_** ** _o_** ** _͢_** ** _in_** ** _̵_** ** _fest_** ** _̢_** ** _ou_** ** _̡_** ** _r_** ** _͘_** ** _land_** ** _̨_** ** _!_** ** _̢_** ** _"_** ** _̨_**

Hissing something unintelligible, Arthur kicked Olivia’s flank again, leaving her groaning into the ground. Karen clenched her jaw and slowly tightened her grip on her rifle while Arthur continued his ranting. **_"You_** ** _̨_** ** _ab_** ** _̡_** ** _a_** ** _̛_** ** _ndo_** ** _̨_** ** _ned_** ** _͠_** ** _u_** ** _҉_** ** _s_** ** _͢_** ** _, a_** ** _̧_** ** _ba_** ** _͡_** ** _n_** ** _͡_** ** _don_** ** _̷_** ** _e_** ** _̶_** ** _d_** ** _̵_** ** _Am_** ** _eri_** ** _̨_** ** _c_** ** _̧_** ** _a,_** ** _̢_** ** _a_** ** _̨_** ** _n_** ** _͠_** ** _d_** ** _͟_** ** _fo_** ** _̢_** ** _r_** ** _͝_** **_͜_** ** _wh_** ** _̛_** ** _at? T_** ** _͡_** ** _e_** ** _͏_** ** _ac_** ** _h_** ** _i_** ** _͏_** ** _n_** ** _g_** ** _̶_** ** _the_** ** _͏_** ** _s_** ** _͟_** ** _av_** ** _͏_** ** _a_** ** _̛_** ** _g_** ** _̶_** ** _e_** ** _s?_** ** _̕_** ** _T_** ** _̸_** ** _h_** ** _e_** ** _͘_** ** _s_** ** _͜_** ** _ub-_** ** _̨_** ** _h_** ** _͢_** ** _um_** ** _͏_** ** _a_** ** _͜_** ** _n_** ** _̢_** ** _leech_** ** _̵_** ** _e_** ** _҉_** ** _s_** ** _͡_** ** _f_** ** _̸_** ** _eed_** ** _̧_** ** _in_** ** _̵_** ** _g o_** ** _҉_** ** _n_** ** _̴_** ** _h_** ** _er?"_**

It felt like a block of solid lead in her arms, but Karen angled her rifle just enough, just _enough_ to fire into the bastard’s back.

He lurched and turned on her, ink spilling from his lips. She didn’t have the articulation yet to move the turn-bolt. Arthur lunged and hauled her up against the wall by her coat, causing her cracked ribs to shift painfully.

Arthur leaned close, and the smell of crude oil and fish washed over her. **_"And_** ** _̢_** ** _yo_** ** _̧_** ** _u! Y_** ** _͞_** ** _o_** ** _͡_** ** _u_** ** _͞_** ** _a_** ** _̶_** ** _re_** ** _n_** ** _͘_** ** _'_** ** _̡_** ** _t_** ** _͏_** ** _on_** ** _̡_** ** _e o_** ** _̢_** ** _f_** ** _̕_** **_̢_** ** _us._** ** _̷_** ** _Yo_** ** _͜_** ** _u._** ** _̢_** ** _._** ** _̷_** ** _._** ** _̛_** ** _"_** He stopped, eyes slowly widening. A cruel grin split his mouth, exposing not a tongue but multiple slithering tendrils behind his monstrous teeth. **_"Oh,_** ** _͡_** ** _you'_** ** _͝_** ** _r_** ** _e_** ** _͝_** ** _a_** ** _͝_** **_͢_** ** _clev_** ** _̸_** ** _e_** ** _̢_** ** _r_** ** _͡_** ** _on_** ** _e_** ** _̸_** ** _,_** ** _̧_** ** _h_** ** _̴_** ** _iding_** ** _͡_** ** _in_** ** _̢_** ** _t_** ** _̕_** ** _h_** ** _͢_** ** _at_** ** _͜_** **_͟_** ** _sk_** ** _in_** ** _._** ** _͢_** ** _My_** ** _̨_** ** _L_** ** _̛_** ** _o_** ** _̨_** ** _r_** ** _͞_** ** _d_** ** _͜_** ** _se_** ** _̡_** ** _es_** ** _͡_** ** _yo_** ** _͠_** ** _ur_** ** _͝_** ** _b_** ** _͟_** ** _a_** ** _̷_** ** _star_** ** _̢_** ** _di_** ** _se_** ** _͞_** ** _d_** ** _̡_** ** _n_** ** _̨_** ** _a_** ** _͝_** ** _tu_** ** _̢_** ** _re_** ** _͘_** ** _!"_**

The words were a shot of adrenaline to her heart. Karen screamed and swung with her right, burying her thumb in his eye. She pushed hard and fast, driving the point into his socket and gouging it free. Arthur dropped her fast, screaming and holding the slick, oily crater where his eye used to be.

He bellowed and looked ready to move on her, but Olivia was on her feet again. She lunged before he did, plunging her knife into his lower back where the spine met the pelvis. It wouldn’t kill him, but he cried out, staggered, and left enough time for Karen to pull the turn-bolt and shove her rifle under his chin.

Grey slime and blood as dark as coal spattered the ceiling, leaving the crown clinging to little more than a flap of tough flesh loosely connected to a broken jaw and an open neck.

An abyssal, rumbling bellow echoed through the facility, sending tremors through Karen’s tightening chest. There was a weight to the air, and it closed around them quickly, pushing down, trying to hold them where they were. Another bellow, bone-deep, digging like an ice pick against her spine.

Olivia sputtered, “fire.”

Swallowing hard, Karen dropped her rifle and used her knife to cut the crown free. She dropped the knife too and clenched tight on the crown, hissing out, “where?”

 

**S** **ͮ̍͌͐** **́** **̆̔ͤ͏̸̪̤͖̞͙̗̞̜͖̥̻͍͝ͅͅ** **͇** **̱ͅ** **̃** **ͯ̍̾ͨ͒͆̈̓͛̓ͥͣ͛̏͏̴̭̘̘̪** **T** **ͭ̎ͭ̾̾͂̽** **̃** **̴̰͓͎̮̬̯̘͎͚͖̠͕ͫ̎** **́** **ͫͧ̂̅͑͡͞͏͚͓͖̜̩͔̬** **̣** **̝͓̜̥** **O** **̭̲͗͐ͤͯͤ̈̋ͯ̿ͤ͋̈́ͤ̕͝** **͇** **̪̼̹̱̪̪** **͇** **̺̝̘̰̮̜** **̐̽̍** **̀́** **̸̷̺̬̫̤̼͎̫͖̿̕͢͞ͅ** **̳** **̯͙̩̮** **P̃** **ͫ** **́** **̡̛̲̺̫̰͎͓̮̟̿̍̒̊͌̎͂̈́̍͒ͯ̋ͨͪ̈́͝͝** **̣** **͖̖͎** ͙̳̘̥̲

 

Olivia gagged and staggered through the door, using the walls for support. Karen followed one aching footstep at a time, each step ghosted by the feeling of nails driving into her heel.

A dozen hands tugged at her body, grappling, snarling into her flesh, pulling against her every movement.

The hallway Olivia took her down wasn’t long, and it only had a single door at the end, but it seemed to stretch away from her all the same, perspective warping under the presence of whatever _thing_ was trying to interfere.

 

**S** **ͮ̍͌͐** **́** **̆̔ͤ͏̸̪̤͖̞͙̗̞̜͖̥̻͍͝ͅͅ** **͇** **̱ͅ** **̃** **ͯ̍̾ͨ͒͆̈̓͛̓ͥͣ͛̏͏̴̭̘̘̪** **T** **ͭ̎ͭ̾̾͂̽** **̃** **̴̰͓͎̮̬̯̘͎͚͖̠͕ͫ̎** **́** **ͫͧ̂̅͑͡͞͏͚͓͖̜̩͔̬** **̣** **̝͓̜̥** **O** **̭̲͗͐ͤͯͤ̈̋ͯ̿ͤ͋̈́ͤ̕͝** **͇** **̪̼̹̱̪̪** **͇** **̺̝̘̰̮̜** **̐̽̍** **̀́** **̸̷̺̬̫̤̼͎̫͖̿̕͢͞ͅ** **̳** **̯͙̩̮** **P̃** **ͫ** **́** **̡̛̲̺̫̰͎͓̮̟̿̍̒̊͌̎͂̈́̍͒ͯ̋ͨͪ̈́͝͝** **̣** **͖̖͎͍͚̯͉̝̝͕̙̩̙̼͙** **T** **̔ͫ̐ͦ** **́** **̖̜̲̻͔͜͢͟͝͞** **͇͇** **͎͉͖͔͕̬̲** ̦͉̥̭̜

 

Fear blossomed in her heart unbidden, images of Shaun, the Institute, and the people of the Commonwealth, all suffering, racing through her mind—she struggled to see straight and growled, pushing through it. She had to. She had to get through this, to get back to him, to protect him from _this._

They finally reached the door. It hissed open, revealing the incinerator and a new wave of impossible weight. Olivia swore profusely and clawed the hatch open, staggering around to the control panel. Karen approached it slowly, each step more painful than the last, like the bones of her legs were splintering under the strain.

**J** **͊̓ͧ̓̊̎͑** **̉** **̷̔̑̓ͣ͏̲͓̭͍** **ͨ͒** **̃** **̴̵̨̺̺͖̠̜** **͇** **̹͎̻̙** **O** **̿̄̓̆ͥ̓̑̍** **́** **͍̰̮̯̬͕͎͖̯̘̱̘̌͘͞** **͇** **͙̯̪͚̹͔** **̃** **̵̧͕̯̮̩̠̻̘̦̞̙̬̼͍͚͙̰̘͆̇̾̑͋͛͊̈́͢͠** **I** **ͪ̔̓ͤͬ̐ͩͤ** **̉** **̍ͧ** **̀** **̑** **́** **̲͖̼͘͝** **͇** **̫̠̩** **͛̅ͬ̂̏ͣ** **́** **̷̷̗̥ͅ** **͇** **̗̞** **N** **̷̷̵̴̡̠̥̰͚̫̟̝̙̜͈̫̔ͬͦ̄̓̅̋̓ͅ**  
̈͐͊ͥͥ͌͗̽ͨ̾̅͋͗ͩ͗ͧ̂ͤͭ͞҉̖͉̫̗̜̳̟̦̥̪ͅ

The word burned itself across her vision, and a suggestion slithered from the folds of her brain.

_Wear it._

She stared at the crown in her shaking hands, pushing against the urge to place it on her head with every fibre of her being.

 

**E** **̱̘ͦͮ̂͑ͥͥͪ̆̕͢ͅ** **͇** **̦̥͉̩̞̼̭̬̩͉̮̼ͅ** **͙̻̮͉̆̆̓͐̆̍͆̐͌͐̿͌͌̍̚͟͝͝** **V** **̥̖̪͔̭̜̤̩̜̫̗̪͉͈ͬͮ̐̅͒̔ͪ̐ͮͣͪͭ̿̆̆͞ͅ** **́** **̢̞͙̯͚̫ͣ̈́ͪ̑ͦ͗͠** **̳** **̙** **͇** **O** **̻̯̞̻̖̯̝̦̘͓̲͍̯ͫ̓ͤͤͥ̂ͨ̊ͥ͂ͣ̊̒̔̔͟** **͗͂̓** **̀** **̵̨̛͍̹̹̥̗̬̱̹̥̤̺͚̻͎͓̈́̈ͣ͑͋͗̏̎̓͞** **L** **̸̷̥̟̪̤̖͎͉͕͓͔̹̱̥͕̺̞̯ͧͫͨ̎̿̊̍̏̿̑ͬ̽̅̒̓̊̍̚̕** **̓̈̓̆̓͋̇͊ͨ̄̑ͨͤ͐ͫ͟͝҉̜̞͓̠̮̝̖͈̫̩͙͔̪̻͖̩͡** **̳** **V** **ͮ̎͆ͬ͑͂͒** **̃** **̷̰̖͉͖͚͚̹̯͙̈ͭ̑ͬ̕** **́** **̏̾ͦͨ** **́** **̗̬͍̭͔̘͎͉͉̭ͭͥͧͫͥ̽̓͐ͦ͘** **E** **̵̬̌ͮͧ̔̊̂͜͡** **̣** **̰̞̹̪͖͎̟** **͇** **̗̠** **̳** **̟̜͔** **̣**

 

The lake bed flashed through her mind, moonlight dancing on the surface, and the mirelurk kings swimming through its depths, elegant and flowing. Karen had to shake her head again, leaning it back to keep some measure of distance away from the crown.

 

**P** **ͫ͌ͨͫ̋̎̎̊̔ͧͥ̐͊̓̓͐͛͢͠͠҉̞̝͈͖̮** **͆̿̓̆ͦ̏ͥ̈́ͭ̚** **̉** **̴̖̮̄̔͘** **̳** **̼͎͓͔̭̜̹̲̪ͅ** **R** **ͧ̚** **̃** **̓** **̉** **̢̠̠̦͔̱͈ͮ͞͠** **̅̆ͥ̾̿ͫ** **̀** **͑̈́** **̃** **ͤ̏̓̾ͤ** **̉** **̵̝͉̱̺͑ͭ͟** **̳** **O** **̎͗͌** **́** **̈́ͧ͗̈҉̸͎̺͓̼͕̹͍̲̪̩͙͍̦̕** **̣** **̜͔ͅ** **̸̸̛̺̞̻̦͈͌̐͊͒͛̿̋͢** **T** **̿ͭͧ̇** **̉** **̵̨͈̙͚̘̝̘͙̝̗̤̭̅ͬͪ͐̈̄ͯ̾̎͌͊͢͝ͅ** **̳** **̰̠̦̲** **̷̡ͮͮ̓͐͐̄̐ͧͪͨ** **̳** **͍͈̮̦** **E** **̽̓ͧ͋ͣͭ̅ͭ̅̑͗̅͐̂̐͗ͣ** **́** **̸̨̰̮͖ͣ͘̕** **̣** **͂ͪ̓ͮ** **̀** **̸̡̂̋ͯ̒͒̚͟͏̯͎̱͖͕̼** **͇** **C** **̵̛̌͆̏ͪ͑҉̸̰̞͡** **͇** **̜͉̲̭͕͙** **̨̞̲ͮͤͧ͒̈́͂ͣ̽̿͊͞͠͡** **̳** **̯** **T** **͑͆̋̇̇̿̓ͥ̒͂** **̀** **͛̇ͤ** ̡̫͇͖̣̱͇͍̰̜̦̫̞̞̺̬ͧ̽ͬͪ̕͜

 

That burned more than anything else, bringing Shaun to the forefront, innocent in his perpetual youth, trapped in a body that would never age, an experiment. A thing.

Her _son_.

Karen sputtered, “fuck you,” and finally released the crown. It tumbled into the hatch, and she shoved hard, closing it with a clap of metal on metal. “Do it!”

Olivia threw the switch. The incinerator roared to life, engulfing the crown in a vaporising bath.

There wasn’t even time to register the final, furious roar. It hit them so hard they both crumpled to the floor, and the world turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing and want to see original work from me, please consider looking me up on Amazon under "Sophie Lack," I write science fiction and fantasy :)


	5. Safe & Sound

There was an axe lodged in the crown of her head, she was sure of it, but when Karen opened her eyes all she saw were the walls of the incinerator room, a tight box of industrial metal walls with enough space to throw something in the hatch and turn it on. Even without the axe, her head continued to throb, aching along with her throat and legs.

She blinked the flickering light from her eyes and sluggishly checked the time, 7:41 am – it had to have been midnight when they blacked out.

They.

Karen jolted in her effort to sit up quickly and was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain from the right side of her ribs. She clenched her teeth and forced herself upright. She needed to make sure.

Olivia was on a couple of feet away, breathing slowly, and the lacerations on her face were red and scabbed over.

“Olivia?” She shuffled over and shook Olivia’s shoulder, fighting the urge to close her eyes and slip off again. Olivia grunted, eyes fluttering. They shot open, unfocused, and she threw a punch in Karen’s direction. Karen knocked the blow away with an arm under Olivia’s and swallowed the rail of pain that lanced through her ribs. “It’s Karen!”

Olivia’s eyes bored into her, distant and nakedly terrified. Karen knew that look far too well to be anything but sympathetic and laid her hands on Olivia’s shoulders, bowing over her. “We’re alright, we made it,” she murmured. “We’re alive.”

Slowly, Olivia’s breathing evened out, and it took a moment more for her eyes to finally become present and focused.

“Fuck…” she muttered.

Karen sighed and settled back. “Yeah.”

A heavy silence fell over them, trying to absorb the night they just had. Karen wasn’t sure where to start, so she focused on something simple, medical attention. “Where’s… where do you keep medical supplies?”

Olivia blinked, looking at her like the question was gibberish, but her mind seemed to click into gear after a couple of seconds. “Right, medical, um,” she paused, wiping a hand down her face only to flinch back when she scraped off some her scabbing. “Fuck! Motherfucker…” she sighed heavily and rocked to her feet, heavily favouring her left side. Karen attempted to follow her but hissed her own string of expletives at the pain in her side. Enhanced or not, damaged bones hurt just the same.

Olivia offering her least painful hand made Karen smile stiffly, and she allowed Olivia to help her up. It was painful for both of them, but the quicker they got some manner of medical attention the better, there was no telling what kind of danger might still be lurking around this accursed place.

Then again, looking at their corridor-turned-shooting-gallery suggested the danger was well and truly gone. Most of the bodies were missing, and all the drag and boot marks in the half-dried viscera suggested someone was cleaning up. No one had come to kill them either, and they had to have been out for at least five or six hours. Maybe whoever was doing this thought they were dead too and just hadn’t gotten to them yet.

Karen shook the thought from her head upon entering one of the labs, reworked into a clinic. She made a mental note to retrieve her visor and began the process of peeling off her STRIG. Olivia secured the door and took out a military-grade medkit. They proceeded to take turns helping each other with all the professional indifference to the human body of trained soldiers, and a good deal of mental numbness from the nightmarish situation they just survived if Karen was honest with herself.

Thankfully, the worst of it for Olivia was just the lacerations, even though opening them up and flushing them was deeply unpleasant. Karen wiped away the dirt, blood and ‘ink’ and had the wounds stitched and bandaged in more time than she’d like, but raising her right arm was a bitch, so the going was slow if precise.

Olivia helped assess the damage to her ribs. Two of them were severely cracked, one was fractured, and since Karen wasn’t feeling anything but the expected aches and pains after six hours out cold, they felt certain nothing was punctured. Karen put it down to her suit and her ‘natural’ toughness, wondering what would’ve happened to Olivia is she were the one thrown by that monstrosity. As it was, Olivia had a ton of bruising and minor cracks, but nothing was broken.

A couple of stimpacks and med-x later, they retrieved their fallen guns, and Karen’s visor, and slowly emerged from the facility. Sunlight greeted them in a dazzling burst of colour, green everywhere, the bright blue of the sky and the fading orange of sunrise colouring scattered clouds. Birds fluttered about, filling the area with chirps and calls.

So too did the smell of burning flesh greet them and Karen frowned, eyeing a pillar of black smoke rising from the lodge’s car park. She walked towards it first, and Olivia trailed behind, finding armed survivors throwing bodies onto a bonfire.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice them.

“Hey! Who—who the fuck are you?!” An older woman lifted a hunting rifle at them, shouting to the others. “Over here!” She stared Karen down, looking haggard in her worn jeans and faded plaid shirt but unerringly fierce.

There were at least two dozen survivors here, and each of them looked wary as all hell. Karen didn’t recognise any of their faces from the school and hoped there were more like them, hiding wherever they could until the nightmare ended.

With more guns pointing their way, Karen slowly lifted her hands. She kept her visor on transparency mode.

Olivia stepped up beside her, hands similarly raised. “Cheryl, put the gun down, please.”

The woman blinked at her. “Olivia? Where the _fuck_ have you been?”

Olivia gestured at Karen. “Getting help. Arthur is dead. We destroyed his room and the crown.”

Cheryl’s hard eyes flicked back and forth between them. “We figured something must have happened. All his cronies just started to… well, they just started dropping, screaming and thrashing on the ground like they were having a fit or something.”

She still hadn’t lowered the gun, and Karen swallowed hard, fighting herself to let Olivia do the talking. “Please, put the gun down. I never wanted any of this, Cheryl. You know that.”

Cheryl didn’t say anything, staring at them with dark, flinty eyes while the fire burned and popped behind her until one of the men spoke up.

“You need to leave.”

Karen lowered her eyes to the ground, jaw clenched. Olivia looked at him and slowly returned her gaze to Cheryl. “You’ll stir up too much pain. We need to rebuild on our own,” she said, without a hint of kindness.

Whatever went through Olivia’s mind at that moment, she didn’t give it a voice. Instead, she simply nodded and looked away.

Cheryl lowered her gun and looked at a young, scruffy looking man who didn’t look older than nineteen. “Gus, you saw where their bike was, take them to it. Make sure they leave nice and easy.”

“Yeah, ok.” The boy spoke in a reedy voice and gave them a nervous look. “Follow me,” he said, gesturing with his rifle.

With lowered hands, they followed, and as Olivia passed Cheryl, Karen heard her companion quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

* * *

The ride back was quiet and full of contemplative rest stops to let their bruises settle, mental and physical, and inject small doses of med-x for their assorted pains. There wasn’t much energy for talk, not enough distance or time to process, but a few scattered conversations broke up the silence.

As before, evening set in by the time they reached their destination, a crossroads just within the Institute’s relay range. It felt like she’d been away far, far longer than a couple of days but Karen knew how these things worked. Soon enough it would be just another memory trying to claw its way to the forefront when she slept.

“Have you thought about my offer?” Karen asked, separating the last of their personal belongings from the bike.

“I have,” said Olivia, slowly adjusting her gloves. “I’m just not sure someone like me has a place there.”

“I didn’t think I belonged either, at first. I felt like the football jock being judged in a room full of mathematicians, but I just needed time to adjust, and so did they. We have intelligence, just not the way they apply it, and they need more people like us. People who’ve been out here and understand that making a better life shouldn’t just be for the few but the many.”

“I’ve made life better have I?”

Karen gripped her shoulder firmly, catching her eye. “You were. And you were only one who wasn’t bullshitting.”

Olivia smiled wistfully at that and looked at the Boston skyline on the horizon. “You have a point,” she said lightly, sighing. “I suppose I could use a reliable shower at the very least.”

Karen let go, offering a stiff smile of her own. “Let me know if you want to talk, alright?”

Olivia straightened her face and nodded slowly. “I will,” she murmured, “in time. You know how it is.”

Karen nodded solemnly, “I do. So… are you coming?”

Taking a deep breath, Olivia rolled her neck, exhaled slowly, and finally looked at Karen. “I believe I am. I’ve nowhere else to be, and I am admittedly quite intrigued by your little society.”

Relieved, Karen activated the beacon on her pip-boy and muted her audio output, speaking clearly into a particular channel. “Relay Team, this is Director Karen Stroud, signal code D-2-3-7-7-R, password, _tìmealachd_. You’re picking up three targets.”

* * *

To say Olivia was impressed by the Institute was an understatement and Karen made sure she would be shown around once both of them were seen to by Dean.

All Olivia needed was a fresh dressing. Karen’s work wasn’t for nothing, and it left Dean to drily comment that he wasn’t sure why Karen humoured him when she proved time and again that she was capable enough on her own. Nonetheless, he appreciated being kept up to date on her health, and the health of potential Institute allies.

Assigning her old quarters to Olivia, Karen scheduled a Directorate meeting in an hour and took that time to have a long, hot shower.

A patchwork of aches flared up across her body under the spray and Karen stood with her brow against the cool, clinical metal that made up so much of the Institute’s structure.

She couldn’t help it when her mind drifted, thinking back on the presence she felt in the facility and wondering if it really was Aqualbhath, whatever Aqualbhath really was. She knew she felt something in the depths of the Dunwich Borers, experienced _something_ and saw whatever-the-hell was buried in that pit of nightmares. Just as quickly, her mind slid to the Cabot family and Lorenzo’s homicidal break with reality, all because of the crown he wore, retrieved from some ancient, lost site _pre-dating_ humankind.

There were so many kinds of imperfect evil in the world that Karen could understand from a certain point of view. She herself had done questionable, even monstrous things, to get where she was. But that…

That _thing_ and what it did to that town, the way it tried to burrow into her sense of self, the way it pressed upon reality with a palpable sense of weight and intent—she never wanted to encounter it again for as long as she lived.

But those things, whatever they are, they’re out there and ignoring that won’t do anyone any good.

Sighing deeply, Karen left the shower to dry off and get dressed in her distinctive, black Director’s uniform. She walked briskly to the meeting room with holotapes in hand and greeted X6 at the door.

“Ma’am, everyone is present,” he said, lowering his head to look at her over his glasses and ask in a quieter voice, “are you up to addressing them?”

Karen smoothed out her coat and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t have called a meeting if I wasn’t, but thank you.” She looked at him. “Can you watch Olivia for me and make sure she gets acquainted with her surroundings? I don’t want the Directorate to think I’m letting her walk freely.”

X6 nodded. “I can make an appearance.”

Karen patted his shoulder. “Thank you, Mekhi,” she said and stepped inside.

The door secured itself behind her, and she made note that everyone was present. “Thank you all for coming,” she started, inputting several commands into a console on the far end of the table. The windows darkened, and a screen emerged from the ceiling behind Karen’s seat. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you all here when I was gone no longer than I usually am. I didn’t expect this excursion to be as intense as it was.”

She walked over to the screen and connected her pip-boy to it, proceeding to insert one of the holotapes. Reinforced panels along the bottom of her STRIG’s overcoat protected several of them, recording everything her helmet cameras saw. Usually, the footage was deleted, most of it was typical surface ventures and seen before, but if anything noteworthy cropped up, she passed it onto Advanced Systems for dissemination.

“The woman you brought back with you, who is she?” Alana inquired.

Karen glanced at her. “She’s the one who asked for our help, and she’s the reason I’m still alive. Out of courtesy for that, I’ve invited her to stay as our guest until she decides if she wants to join us or go her own way. She can’t leave on her own, and if she asks to leave without joining us, she can’t return nor does she know our true location.”

Alana seemed satisfied with that and nodded to let Karen continue. “As you know, we travelled north through New York state to the Adirondacks. A settlement there, Lake Placid, had been taken over by a hostile force. These weren’t bandits, mercenaries, or anything that mundane, or I wouldn’t be telling you about it.” She fixed the Directorate with a cool stare and spoke in a steely, grave tone of voice. “What I’m about to show you isn’t to be discussed outside this room or with any other member of the Institute except for those present. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded, sharing a few looks of confusion, worry, curiosity—she wondered what they would look like in a moment.

Using her pip-boy to jump through the footage, Karen stopped at the moment she and Olivia were first attacked and got a serious look at their assailants. Scaled up, it was easier to see the abnormalities in their shape and posture, especially their contorted faces and sharp teeth. The distorted voices were unsettling to hear again, but necessary to get across the unusual nature of the situation.

She moved on, showing more stills of the affected townies, including what she could get of the thing that killed Lawrence which wasn’t much at the time until she reached the school scene. Frame by frame, she went through Arthur turning Peter into an entropic monster, aglow in radioactive energy while he destroyed Peter’s humanity.

From there, she showed footage and stills of the mirelurk kings in the water, and when they came to attack. The final images shown were of Arthur in bright light.

Karen looked over the Directorate, and the mood was certainly different. Tense, disgusted, horrified—but the curiosity was still there as expected. “From what we could determine,” she said, keeping her voice steady as a rock. “An unknown force was attached to the crown you saw here. We don’t know exactly what it is, or who made it, but we do know there are more items like it and they came well before the war. These items interfere with our psychology, inducing hallucinations, hysteria, intrusive thoughts, homicidal urges and signs of capgras syndrome, or imposter syndrome, treating family and friends as enemies.” She gestured at the final still. “Arthur suffered delusions of grandeur and a critical lack of human emotion and empathy to the suffering he was causing. As you saw, he was also changing on a physiological level and seemed to have control of abilities implausible for any human.”

“Director, if I may,” said Clayton, hands linked on the table. Karen nodded at him, and he continued. “When you say an unknown force… what do you mean?”

“I mean that it exhibited qualities for which we have no adequate definition, and before you ask, the crown was destroyed along with everything Arthur learned about it. You’ll each have time to review the footage and the rest of the information we could gather and work up theories of your own as to what exactly was going on. The short answer right now is; I don’t know, and I don’t want to guess.”

“I see. I admit what you’ve shown us is… unusual.”

Karen nodded and took note of the deep frown dominating Allie’s features. Her eyes were fixed on the still of Arthur. “What’s on your mind, Allie?”

“Nothing specific,” she murmured, tearing her eyes from the screen. “It’s highly unusual, I agree. We’ll review the information you recovered but what else did you want us to do with this?”

Karen canted her head, thankful for Allie’s familiarity with her habits. “Nothing proactive, yet, but I want us to keep our ears open for _anything_ like this happening near our territory. We are one of the last, best hopes for what remains of our species; I won’t see it blindsided by something like this. What happened to this town cannot be allowed to happen in the Commonwealth.”

It almost did, twice, but Karen kept that to herself.

Nonetheless, she brought the meeting to a close, and each of the Directorate left until Karen remained standing behind her chair, peering at the window at the Institute, and all those who fell under her immediate, fervent protection.

It would _not_ happen here.

She would die before she allowed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading to the end! If you enjoy my writing and want to see original work from me, please consider looking me up on Amazon under "Sophie Lack," I write science fiction and fantasy :)
> 
> Side Note: Karen's password is Scots Gaelic for "timeless," as her synthetic origins mean she won't naturally age.


End file.
